


It's Hard Not To Fall In Love

by hocaponas



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M, So much angst, VirtueMoir - Freeform, dont worry it will get smutty, im so sorry, life as we know it - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2019-06-14 22:18:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15398730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hocaponas/pseuds/hocaponas
Summary: Everyday since they got back from Pyeongchang she had thought about it, thought about what it would be like to carry her own child, to be accountable to someone other than just herself and Scott. For two years winning that gold had been her only target, and now she was lost, wandering through the dark, looking for something to keep her going.orthe 'Life As We Know It' fic no one asked for, but eveyone needed





	1. Rosie

**Author's Note:**

> I tried writing fluff, but turns out I'm not that good at it. Soooooo, this is what you get.  
> I hope you like it :)))))

She had always wanted kids. It was, after all, part of the future life she had dreamed up for herself at the tender age of seven.

It started by going to the National School of Ballet. Then she would get married in big church, buy an overpriced house with a white picket fence, and pop out enough kids to warrant buying a minivan. She wanted to bake cookies for the school bake sale, go to dance recitals and hockey games. She wanted her own family with a husband to wake up to every morning.

But somewhere along the line things changed. Maybe it was when she choose skating over ballet, or moved away from home at only thirteen. Either way, her plans changed. She stopped caring about the white picket fence and decided minivans were in fact very tacky. The Olympics became her dream. Standing on the podium with Scott, a gold medal around her neck, that was the new dream.

So it wasn’t as if she didn’t want kids. She did, it just never worked out. For the last thirteen years she'd barely had enough time to breathe, much less even think about settling down and starting a family.

“Maybe you should go on Tinder,” Kaitlyn suggests, pouring another sugar packet into her coffee. She was six months along and going through major caffeine withdrawal, thus the disgusting decaf coffee in her cup. Not to mention her new hobby of trying to set Tessa up with any  guy within yelling distance. It wasn’t that Tessa didn’t know to date, she just wasn’t that good at it. Plus she kind of already had a boyfriend. 

“As if,” Tessa scoffs, repressing a physical cringe. She would rather die than attempt to come up with a witty bio for a dating app. “That’s not dating, that’s looking for a hookup.”

Kaitlyn smirks while ripping open another sugar packet. “You could try that too…” Tessa pelts a sugar packet at her friends forehead.

“And you could try laying off the artificial sugar.”

Kaitlyn glares, purposefully pouring another packet into her cup. “I’ve been banned from caffeine, a sin if you ask me, and real sugar. I’m attempting to make something half decent here.” She eyes the container of splenda packets while Tessa slowly moves them out of her reach. “But we need to get back to the real crisis at hand, your love life. What’s going on with  Mark?”

The kind of boyfriend.

“Nothing. He’s fine,” Tessa shrugs. Mark was supposed to be just her type. Clean cut, smart, professional. He even had an apartment with an honest to god fireplace. “And my love life is not a crisis.”

“It is. It’s also red flag number one if you’re describing him as ‘fine’ when you’ve been dating for eight months.” Tessa keeps her eyes on her coffee, a true give away that she wants this conversation to be over, but Kaitlyn doesn't know her like Scott does. “I could ask around, maybe Andrew has a friend or too?”

“So we’re done with Mark then?”

Kaitlyn raises her eyebrows while heaving herself up on the chair. She has the mom look nailed already. “There’s no ‘we,’ Tess.” By the way she talking, Tessa was sure that wasn’t true. When she doesn’t say anything Kaitlyn sighs. “I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. She was happy, to some extent. Coaching was fulfilling. Watching the younger skaters whip around the ice, nailing a jump they had been working on for weeks, that made her happy. Spending down time reading and working on upcoming sponsorship projects, that made her happy. Being with Scott, that made her happy. She ignores the nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach that it wasn’t enough. If she told herself she was happy, maybe she could believe she was instead of longing for something that wouldn’t happen. So she offers up a smile, one that she knew Scott would see through in an instant, but that Kaitlyn wouldn’t think twice about.

Kaitlyn flashes her an equally bright smile, resting a hand on rounded belly. She doesn’t notice the crack in Tessa’s smile, or the way her heart aches.

* * *

****

“Have you ever thought about it?” Tessa asks the day after they find out about Kaitlyn and Andrew’s baby.

Scott looks over at her, the laces of his skates forgotten in his hands. “Thought about what?”

“Marriage.” She pauses. “Kids.” Another pause. “Settling down,” she says breathless. She’s not looking at him. She can't bring herself to since she knows if she does he’ll be giving her the same look as when she told him she needed surgery.

He drops the laces and leans back against the wall, running a hand through his already messy hair. Scott always had messy hair. “Of course I have,” he answers, sounding equally out of breath, even though practice ended ten minutes ago. “Haven’t you?”

She sighs. This was a bad idea, a really bad idea. She contemplates not answering and instead just getting up and running out of the building as fast as she can. It should be an easier answer, would be for anyone else, but she was prone to overthinking everything. Now here she was digging herself into a deep hole she didn’t know how to get out of.  She tries to keep her voice steady when she responds. “Yeah.”

They’d never talked about this, not in the context or their friends, and especially not between each other.. But now here it was, glaring in their faces, and Tessa didn’t know how to ignore it. Of course she had thought about it. Everyday since they got back from Pyeongchang she had thought about it, thought about what it would be like to carry her own child, to be accountable to someone other than just herself and Scott. For two years winning that gold had been her only target, and now she was lost, wandering through the dark, looking for something to keep her going. There’s a hand on her thigh, strong and steady. Then he’s kneeling in front of her, skates discarded against the wall. His hair is messy, sticking up at weird angles and stuck to his forehead where the sweat still lingers on his skin. The hand on her thigh tightens while his other comes to rest on her cheek, cradling her face in the palm of his hand. He’s not looking at her like she’s broken, but he looks worried, sad even.

“Tess,” he whispers. She wants to sink to her knees and wrap herself in his embrace, but she doesn’t. “What’s wrong. Talk to me.” She shouldn’t have said anything.

She hates that he knows something is wrong just by the change in her voice. A weak smile plays on her lips. “Nothing.” He strokes his thumb along her cheek bone and she nearly melts.

“You’re lying.” She knows she is, and she resents the fact that he knows she is too.

Her head shakes and she doesn't say anything. Doesn’t trust herself to say anything or else she might spill everything she’s thought about and over analyzed since Pyeongchang. Scott doesn’t buy it though, he knows better. He knows _her._

“Why did you ask if I had thought about it?” Silence. “Did something happen with Mark?”

She shakes her head, resigned to avoid the mention of her then kind of boyfriend (of only 2 months) and marriage in the same sentence.

“Are you worried about our partnership?”

She sees her opportunity and runs with it. “Yes,” she whispers, hoping he doesn’t hear the lie tripping from her voice.

He doesn’t. “I’m not going anywhere, Tess. You know that.” He pauses. “And if one of us do find ourselves in _that_ position, we’ll talk about it then, just like everything else.” She almost scoffs. Just like how they talked about the time they got drunk and hooked up in the back of his truck after the Vancouver Olympics. Or how they did it three more times after that, but completely sober and on her white coach. Or how he spent the night kissing away her tears after their loss in Sochi.

“Okay,” she sighs, not feeling any better, but he doesn’t have to know that.

“I’m serious, Tess.” Scott offers an unusually sad smile. “That’s the farthest thing from my mind right now.” She wonders if now he’s the one that’s lying.

“I’m happy for them,” she states, more for herself than anything. “Kaitlyn seems really happy. Andrew too.”

“I am too, but there’s no reason for you to worry.” She wasn’t, not about that at least. “I’m still in this.”

“Me too,” she whispers. He moves the hand from her thigh to her other cheek and leans his forehead against hers. The sweat has evaporated but his skin is still warm. She relaxes into his touch, feeling grounded for the first time in a while. Their breath mixes in the air between them while she grips the hood of his sweatshirt. It’s times like these that their line between friends and more-than-friends starts to waver and she can’t quite figure out where they stand. She can’t admit to the fear that’s slowly eating her alive. She can’t find a way to tell him that she doesn’t know where to go from here. All she can do is hold on to his sweatshirt and fake being whole still.

“I’m here for you, Tess. Whatever you need.” That’s a lie.

That night, she drives herself to Mark’s apartment and they fuck on his couch. She stays awake afterwards, overthinking and staring at the honest to god fireplace.  

* * *

****

She makes a list of things that keep her happy on a scrap piece of paper torn from her day planner and keeps it in her pocket. Scott is number one.

Tessa finds ways to keep herself distracted, to keep the relentless nagging in the pit of her stomach at bay. She makes lists, one of things that keep her happy, one of things she shouldn't think about (her lack of baby daddy prospects is number one, her confusing feelings around Scott is number two), one of things she shouldn’t talk about (her lack of baby daddy prospects is a close second to her crippling fear of dying alone), and one of tv shows she needs to get caught up on. She throws herself into work, spending hours at the rink making sure each of the skaters perfects their jumps, then goes home to work on her laptop until she passes out at the kitchen table. It’s vicious cycle. She works and works, wearing herself thin until there is nothing left to give.

They haven’t talked about it since, her and Scott. Not since six months ago when she practically burst into tears over how scared she was. They don’t talk about it, and she figures neither of them want it. She rarely sees Mark anymore, just enough to still consider him a boyfriend, and usually only when she finds herself needing a release. Scott has started dating again too, so girl named Mackenna. He’s brought her around to practice a few times, but Tessa knows better than to think that qualifies their relationship as serious.

Since Scott has found a way to keep himself busy, she finds one too. By the time Kaitlyn is seven months along they have the perfect baby showered planned, down to the colour of the napkins and the font on the invitations.

“Is it too much?” Kaitlyn asks, rubbing a hand down her belly. She’s started doing that a lot and Tessa pretends she isn’t jealous.

“Of course not. It’s perfect. Andrew will think so too.” Kaitlyn wanted the shower to be secret from Andrew, which, thankfully, gave Tessa a reason not to bring up any of their baby business around Scott. That boy couldn’t keep a secret to save his life. Not to mention Kaitlyn and Andrew’s baby was number four on her ‘Don’t Think About It’ list and number six on her “Don’t Talk About It’ list. She knew that would probably have to change soon.

Kaitlyn sighs, pacing circles around the onesie decorating station, a comforting hand resting on the peak of her belly. Tessa offers a smile when Kaitlyn glances at her.

“It will be great,” Tessa says with an air of certainty. She ignores the voice in her head that keeps asking how she got here, how she got so deep into something she didn’t want to be involved with. This was so not the way to move on, far from it in fact.

She hears them coming before the door opens, Scott’s never been the quietest person. They parade into the living room, Andrew hollering about the football game while Scott follows on his heels, the remnants of a laugh still evident in his smile. Andrew lets out a loud laugh, after looking somewhat midily confused as to why his house had been transformed into into a pink paradise, running over to his wife and carefully spinning her around. Tessa watches intently, making little effort to hide her unease.

“Looks great, T.” Scott brushes a kiss on her cheek. His lips linger a little longer, his hand on her back a little softer. She hopes its just her imagination.

She swallows a dry pill. “Kaitlyn did most of it, I just helped.” She looks up and he’s studying her like she’s someone he’s never met. Oh no.

“You okay,” Scott asks. Goosebumps shiver up her spin from his touch.

“Yup,” She counters, a little too quickly. Kaitlyn has lead Andrew to the backyard, probably to show off the ridiculously large balloons Tessa managed to acquire that spelt out ‘Baby Girl.’ They’re all alone.

“Tess -.”

“How’s Mckenna?” He looks stunned, maybe because she rarely ventures to ask about his love life, or maybe because she had the nerve to bring up his causal girlfriend at the baby shower for their best friends (who just so happened to also be married to each other), out of pure desperation to change the subject.

“We, ah,” he pauses, running a hand through his already messy hair. “We broke up. Well I broke up with her.”

“Oh,” she mumbles, feeling like the biggest idiot ever.

“She got back together with her ex.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.”

The room is silent, the air between them dead. Suddenly all the pink feels too bright, like it’s giving her a headache. She wants to be anywhere but here, surrounded by pink flowers with matching napkins and an unusually sad boy clinging to her arm. This was definitely not the way to move on with her life.

“Did you wanna talk about,” she asks timidly.

He shrugs like it’s the most casual thing, but the hand on her back creeps around to grip her waist. “Not really. How’s Mark?”

She stumbles through a response. “He’s still around.”

Scott snorts. “That’s romantic.” It’s her turn to shrug. “Do you like him?”

“Of course.”

That’s a lie. She can’t stand the fact that he only wants to talk about finances and statistics. She hates his apartment with it’s squeaky floors and honest to god fireplace that doesn’t even work. He forgets to shave sometimes so that every time he kisses her she wants to scream. He uses too much body spray, there’s always dirty dishes in his sink, and he refuses to return the favour. She doesn’t like him, but can’t bring herself to break up with him yet because the sex is halfway decent.   

His breath comes out in a long sigh “Do you ‘like’, like him?”

“What are we, five?” She glares at him.

“Could you see yourself marrying him,” Scott asks flatly after a long, drawn out silence.

She pauses as if she has to think about it, then: “Maybe.” Another lie.

His brows disappear in his hair and she feels the urge to take it all back, to tell him how much she actually hates Mark, but that she’s more afraid of being alone. Scott looks hurt, his emotions playing clearly on his face. “Maybe I should meet him,” he suggests, but his voice cracks in way that makes her breathless.

She never gets a chance to answer, not that she would have known what to say anyway. Andrew and Kaitlyn come back, beaming like rays of sunshine, and the guests start to arrive.

* * *

****

Drunk Tessa was fun Tessa, that’s what her friends always said.

But she wasn’t drunk, just a little tipsy, at least that’s what she thought. Within minutes Kaitlyn’s house had filled with guests, each adding to the growing pile of presents that was starting to resemble Mount Everest. So Tessa, being a mature and responsible adult who was totally capable of handling her emotions, started drinking. Kaitlyn made it easy to, supplying the _good_ champagne (which ironically Tessa had bought). Nothing but the best for their guests.

The party was winding down, most of the guests having already left except for the few who loved to overstay their welcome. “Are you drunk,” Scott whispers from behind her, chills creeping up her spine. 

“No.”

“I can smell the wine on your breath.”

“And I can smell the beer on yours,” she retorts, knowing full well he had been nursing the same beer bottle for the whole party and it was only half drank.

“I’m taking you home,” He mutters, sounding exhausted.

“I haven’t said goodbye to Kaitlyn,” she whines, tipping the glass at a dangerous angle.

Scott has his arms around her, spinning her around gracefully to head towards the door. His hair is still a mess and his face is flushed, probably from the heat, and Tessa wonders why any girl in her right mind would cheat on him.

“Said what to me?”

Kaitlyn stood in the doorway of her kitchen, face flashed the same colour as her pink dress which showed of her growing bump.

Tessa sighs, still in Scott’s arm. “You’re so pretty. Isn’t she pretty?” She looks to Scott as if he was going to agree with her.

Kaitlyn raises a brow, hands on her hips in the most mom like of fashion. “Is she drunk?”

Tessa mutters a a timid yes at the same time Scott says no. She doesn’t seem upset or even mad, but disappointed. Kaitlyn reaches out a hand and Scott tentatively lets Tessa out of his grasp, his fingertips linger on her waist like  a tattoo.

“Andrew’s outside,” Kaitlyn tells Scott. “I’ve got her from here.” Kaitlyn mutters a few choice words, sitting Tessa down on the stool at the breakfast bar and placing a glass of water in front of her. “What are doing, Tessa?”

Suddenly she decides to fuck the lists. The tape isn’t holding and she’s going to fall apart sooner rather than later if she doesn’t say anything.

“I don’t know where to go from here,” she whispers, forehead resting on the cold stone countertop.

“What does that mean?” She too sounds exhausted.

Tessa lifts her head to look at her friend, her beautiful, married, glowing friend. “I wanted to live in a house with a white picket fence.” Her voice is hoarse. “I wanted kids and husband. I want everything that you have now and I can’t figure how to get it.”

“Tessa…”

“I want someone to really love me, you know, the way Andrew loves you.”

“Tessa, honey,” Kaitlyn sighs. “It took us so long to get to where we are now. You just have to give it time.”

“I’m running out of time,” she chokes out, running a lazy finger over the rim of her water glass and giggling as it makes a soft hum. When Kaitlyn doesn’t speak for a long while Tessa jerks her head up, wondering if she accidentally said something offensive. She was definitely drunk. Instead her friend is staring at her with so much sorrow she looked like her heart was going to burst. “Don’t look so sad,” Tessa mumbles. “It’s probably not good for the baby.”

Kaitlyn giggles, stealing a sip from Tessa’s water glass. Then: “I want you to be that baby’s Godmother.”

Tessa goes slack in her chair, half convinced she was too tipsy to hear properly. “What?”

“I want you to be the baby’s Godmother, if you want to.” She knows she should say now. Every halfway functional brain cell was screaming at her to say no, but something else was tugging at her. Some voice, buried depth in her head, compelled her to agree.

“Of course.”

It is a stupid, stupid idea. This was not how to move on, Tessa thought. This was a band aid solution; a flimsy, self destructive solution that could only end badly. How was this supposed to help, having a kid that was kind of hers but not really.

Kaitlyn let out a sharp squeal, darting around the island to embrace Tessa. Her belly sticks out awkwardly between them and Tessa feels a small jolt that make her heart nearly beat out of her chest.

“See, even she’s excited,” Kaitlyn laughs. She pulls away, one hand bracing the counter for stability, the other on Tessa’s shoulder. “I didn’t know if this was the right time, I didn’t plan for you to get drunk.”

Tessa whispers, “Neither did I.”

“But I’ve wanted to ask you for a while. You have always been my number one pick.” Tessa giggles, thinking it sounds like she’s being picked for a dodgeball team at school.

“Don’t laugh,” Kailyn scolds. “I’m serious. I want you to be a part of her life. Both of you.”

There’s a long drawn out silence before Tessa speaks again, using the time to compose her words. Was she more hoping for Kaitlyn to say her and Mark or her and Scott? She wasn’t sure.

“Both of us?”

“You and Scott,” she clarifies. “Andrew’s supposed to ask him to be the Godfather.”

She doesn’t know what else to say other than “Oh.” She’s way too inebriated to be dealing with this, or her completed feelings about it all, right now. She can’t even understand how she’s feeling, just that she knows it's going to be a bitch of a conversation with Mark.

Tessa thinks Kaitlyn looks startled, as if it’s perhaps just dawning on her that maybe this wasn’t the best plan. “If you’re not okay with it -.”

“It’s fine,” Tessa assures it, wondering if that’s another lie she has to add to her ongoing tally. “It’s exciting, I mean you’re having a baby for crying out loud.” Yup, still drunk.

Kaitlyn sighs, leaning back against the counter like her feet are ready to give. “Okay,” she breathes. “That’s good. I really didn’t want to pick anyone else.”

Tessa offers a half hearted laugh, wishing it was champagne instead of water in her glass. She goes home that night to a voicemail from Mark telling her he had to work late, again. She crawls into the cold, empty bed, trying to imagine what Kaitlyn and Andrews daughter will look like. 

* * *

 

“Alright, read me the list."

Tessa flops down on the couch, a glass of red in one hand and chocolate milk in the other. She leans over, passing the chocolate milk filled wine glass to Kaitlyn who attempts to (jokingly) balance it on her huge belly.

“Oliva,” Kaitlyn says, smiling successfully at the drink that was now balanced on the apex of her belly.

“It’s cute,” Tessa responds.

“Andrew likes it.”

“Do you,” Tessa asks hesitantly. Oddly enough she felt normal, relaxed even, to be on her couch picking out baby names with her best friend. No thinking about Mark, or the lists, or even Scott for that matter.

“It’s okay,” Kaitlyn sighs. “We have a few more picked out. Taylor, Mia, Maddie, Emma, Lily…”

“Emma is pretty, I like Lily too.”

Kaitlyn sighs, leaning back against the couch cushions. “What if I suck at this,” she mumbles, staring intently at the chocolate milk.

“At picking out baby names?” Tessa’s not stupid, she knows that isn’t what she meant. But quite frankly she was in a good place and wasn’t in the mood to give a pep talk about being motherly as if she knew anything about it. However, it looked as if that was going to become unavoidable.

“At raising a baby,” Kaitlyn sighs, exasperated. “What if I mess it up.”

Tessa stares at her friend, wondering if that was what complete and utter fear looked like. Competing at the Olympics, yeah that was scary and terrifying. But raising a kid, that was on a whole other level of terror that, ironically, Tessa was still sad about possibly missing out on.

“You won’t mess it up,” Tessa assured her. She should probably say more, but she wasn’t quite sure what it was Kaitlyn needed to hear. She was only ever good at comforting Scott.

“But what if I do? What she hates me, or Andrew? What if, god forbid, I drop her on her head? What if I can’t give her the life she deserves?”

Tessa hides a pity laugh by sipping her wine. “For starters, avoiding dropping your future kid, or kids,” Kaitlyn looks over with wide eyes, “on their heads. Or, if you do, blame it on Andrew.”

“Funny,” Kaitlyn mutters sarcastically, despite cracking a small smile.

“You’ll do just fine,” Tessa says, mostly because she doesn’t know what else to say.

“So will you.”

* * *

****

It is a cold night in the middle of February when she gets the call from Andrew. The lights are all off, the gently falling snow casting the apartment into a state of silence. She slips out of bed, careful not to disturb Mark, and searches for her clothes on his bedroom floor. Black jeans, a white bodysuit, and a leather jacket; not the most appropriate for a visit to the hospital where your best friend is giving birth, but she doesn’t want to waste time going back to her place to change.

“Tess.”

The bed creaks as Mark sits up. Through the pale light from the window she can see the outline of his tousled hair, his sex hair. She doesn’t normally stay the night, in fact they normally don’t even venture into his bedroom. Normal for her and Mark was something quick on his couch with a rerun of Masterchef playing on the tv in the background. Perhaps he too had started to accept the relationship for what it was, a desperate attempt to maintain some sort of sex life.

Despite that, she was still in his bedroom, clothes on the floor, wondering what the hell she was doing (both in trying to find her clothes and in her life. Mostly the later, though).

“What’s going on,” he asks, sleep making is voice deep and rough to the point Tessa almost finds it sexy. Almost.

She wonders he thinks she is sneaking out, after all it wouldn’t be the first time. She had become the expert on the quick escape.

“Kaitlyn’s having her baby,” she whispers, pulling on the pant leg of her jeans.

“Oh,” he sighs, flopping back down onto the mattress with a thud. He grumbles a “have fun,” into his pillow while she tries to keep her eyes from rolling out of her head. It’s not until she’s made her way out into his living room (the one with the honest to god fireplace that doesn’t actually work) that it occurs to her that all she has to wear are heels. She contemplates stealing a pair of his shoes, but decides that might send a weird message. It was already weird enough that she had decided on a whim to stay the night.

Maybe Kaitlyn’s baby was actually a blessing. This way she can avoid the awkward pancake breakfast in the morning (seriously, why is pancakes the go to post sex breakfast? Hash browns and poached eggs are way better).

She straps on the heels and steps outside, instantly regretting her outfit choice for that evening. While searching for her car under a thick coating for fresh snow, she makes an executive decision to only go on dates in sweatpants and winter jackets. Never again, she thinks, staring down at her near frostbitten toes that were exposed to the cold air.

The hospital is eerily silent when she gets there, it being three in the morning in all. Scott is standing in the corner of the waiting area, arms crossed and head down. The only indication that he is still awake is the tapping of his foot against the floor.

“Hey,” she mumbles quietly.

He looks up at her with tired eyes, but he seems wide awake as he takes in her attire. “Nice shoes.”

“I don’t want to waste time going home to change.” She doesn’t have clarify where she was, she can see it in the tension of his shoulders. He knows she was at Mark’s. “Did I miss it?”

Scott looks like he wants to say more, or maybe it’s her sleep deprived brain making up things that aren't really there. Either way, he accepts the change in conversation. “Not yet. Andrew was out here a few mins ago talking to his family.” Scott nods to the group of people tucked on the oher side of the waiting area. “Something about 8cm?”

She holds back a smirk, it was such a boy thing to say. “Do you want a coffee,” she asks, when the silence grows too thin. He nods solemnly, following the clicking of her heels down the silent hallways.

“I hate hospitals,” Scott grumbles behind her. She thinks the same thing. She hated those weeks she had to spend in one, alone in a claustrophobic room that always smelt like hand sanitizer and bleach. She hates Scott for never visiting her, but that’s in the past.

“Me too.”

Andrew is out in the waiting area when they get back, each clutching the hospital’s pathetic excuse for a latte. He takes one look at Tessa and bursts out laughing, despite looking like he had been awake for thirty hours straight.

“Nice shoes,” He chuckles and she feels Scott smirk behind her.

“Thanks,” Tessa responds through gritted teeth. “How’s your _wife?”_

Andrew looks mildly offended at her harsh tone before swiping a sip of Scott’s coffee. “Oh lovely. I hear giving birth is a really soothing, relaxing experience.”

Scott chuckles, then shrinks under Tessa’s glare. “You’re so funny,” she deadpans, still looking at Scott. He has a splotch of milk foam on the corner of his mouth that she wipes away with the sleeve of her jacket. “How is she really?"

“1 centimeter left to go. Probably another hour, maybe less.”

He leaves at a brisk pace as a nurse calls for him down the hall, leaving Tessa feeling lost and anxious. She really hates hospitals. As if sensing her unease, Scott rubs a hand down her back with steady pressure, his thumb just grazing the dip in her spin.

“You wanna sit down,” he whispers, his thumb running dangerously close to the waistband of her jeans.

Tessa doesn't answer, she doesn’t need to. Scott leads her to the corner of the waiting area by the window where she sits and watches the falling snow. Ironically, it seems whiter outside than in the hospital.

Scott’s hand is still on her back, tracing light circles as she leans her head against his shoulder. She sighs, breathing in his usual smell of lemon body wash and aftershave.

“We’re going to be Godparents,” Tessa whispers, thinking the statement sounds oddly intimate, like it crosses some sort of invisible line. She waits for his response, but doesn’t get one as she drifts off to sleep, her head still propped against his shoulder.

* * *

 

Tessa wakes with a jolt, opening her eyes to see Scott leaning over her with a shit eating grin spread across his face

“She’s here,” he announces. Tessa jumps up from the chair, too dazed to even notice the splotch of drool on Scott’s shirt, presumably left by her. The hospital room is crowded, families members gathering around the bed to coo at a baby Tessa couldn’t even see over the mass of people. They stand off to the side, Scott’s foot persistently tapping on the tile floor. The room feels claustrophobic, but Tessa doesn’t want to leave. She doesn’t want to miss this.

She catches a glance at Kaitlyn as someone's grandma moves off to the side. Tessa expects to feel pitiful, maybe even upset, but instead her whole body sings with happiness when her eyes catch at the pink blanket wrapped in Kaitlyn’s arms. Kaitlyn and Andrew’s baby; their godchild.

Tessa, still caught in the heat of the moment, almost doesn’t notice when Scott puts a hand on her back (again) and leans down to whisper in her ear. “She’s gorgeous.”   

She hums in reply, not wanting to take her eyes of the squirming pink bundle. His hand moves to waist, clutching her to his side like an anchor. He’s saying something else, but she can’t hear him over the chatter of nurses and assorted family members. It’s as if her eyes are fixed on that one point.

His hand moves from her waist to grasp her hand, her pinky sliding easily between his index and middle finger; their signature hand hold. She pulls her eyes away to look up at Scott. He looks giddy, almost like he can’t contain how happy he is. Tessa’s mind flashes back to Vancouver, standing on the podium with their first Olympic medal, holding hands in just the same way. Some things never change.

Eventually everyone else files out while Tessa stands along the wall, Scott clutching her hand. Kaitlyn whispers a meager “hey,” while Scott and Andrew share an oddly passionate bro hug.

“She’s so tiny,” Tessa smiles, kneeling down along the side of the hospital bed. Kaitlyn scotches over, baby still in her arms, and Tessa sides on the side of the bed.

“Sure didn’t feel so small coming out.” Tessa nearly leans over laughing (quietly, so as not to wake up the baby) while Andrew touches his wife’s arm with an apologetic smile. “Do you want to hold her?”

That pesky little voice returns, telling her not to get too attached. “That’s okay…”

“C’mon,”  Kaitlyn sighs, “hold your godchild.” And the way she says it sends shivers down Tessa’s spine. How could she possibly say no now?

She leans over, opening her arms for Kaitlyn to pass her the pink bundle. “Cradle her head. A little higher up. Yeah just like that.”

Tessa sits back up, the small pink bundle cradled cautiously in her arms. She feels, to her horror, like she holding the weight of the world. The baby’s small nose pokes out from the blanket, eyes screwed shut. But her hand reaches up, instinctively grasping Tessa’s pinky, and she can’t help but think of how Scott used to hold her pinky as they skated around the rink as kids. That was, of course, back when they were too scared to hold hands.

“She’s so beautiful,” Tessa  whispers, in awe of the way her tiny features scrunch up when Tessa tries to move her hand away, likes she’s protesting.

“Did you pick out a name?” Scott asks from behind her. Tessa hadn’t even realized he was there. Kaitlyn and Andrew exchange a glance like a scene from a romantic comedy starring Emma Stone.

“Rosie.”

Her eyes fly open, blinking wide and curious up at Tessa upon the sound of her name. “I think she likes it,” Scott smiles, a hand on Tessa’s shoulder. They stare down at Rosie together and this, Tessa decides, feels even more oddly intimate. Even more intimate than the messy hook ups and accidental kisses they have shared over the years. Yet, there was something that just felt so right, Tessa thought. More than carrying the Canadian flag at the opening ceremony or even winning the Olympics.

“Rosie Elizabeth Weaver-Poje,” Kaitlyn says, sounding more lovestruck than ever.

“Can I hold her,” Scott asks. Tessa nods, but doesn’t make anymore to pass her over to Scott. She doesn’t want to just yet. She wanted to keep holding Rosie, pretending that, for at least a moment, she had everything put together. There is something about holding a baby, something that made her feel like everything was okay, or that everything would be okay.

Finally she relents, passing the squirming bundle to Scott. Rosie immediately calms in his arms and his shit eating grin returns. Even though she wasn’t holding her anymore, Tessa still stares down at the little girl. She watches her hand grasping Scott’s fist, like she’s challenging him to an arm wrestle. Her wide eyes blink up at him, taking in his features until her eyebrows seem to fur looking at his unruly mess of hair. Tessa can’t help but giggle.

“I think she’s confused by my hair,” Scott says, sounding way too offended.

"We all are,” Andrew deadpanned from the corner without missing a beat. Kaitlyn and Tessa giggle while Scott whips a fake tear from his eye. For an unexpected moment, Tessa found herself giddy with happiness. She found that she didn’t want to be anywhere else than this claustrophobic hospital room.

She bent at the waist, brushing back the sides of the Rosie’s blanket. “Hi Rosie, I’m Tessa. It’s really nice to meet you.” She felt Scott’s stare on the back of her neck, but was sure if she turned to look at him that she would  find herself crying, or him, or both of them. “And that’s Scott. The one with the bad hair. We’re both really excited to meet you, we’ve been waiting awhile.”

Rosie opens her eyes and blinks. Tessa’s heart shattered to the sound of Scott’s sigh.


	2. Winter to Spring

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow!   
> Thank you all so much for all the love and support, I'm so glad you all like this fic.   
> Hope you enjoy this chapter too, sorry in advance about the ending ;)

Tessa sighs, stretching her feet out to the end of the beach towel to let her toes gently rest in the warm sand. The hot afternoon sun envelopes the beach, exposing millions of freckles that run from her cheeks to the tips of her fingers. Beside her, Scott sighs as if in reply. Rosie, decked out in an elaborate strawberry tutu bathing suit, lays on Scott’s chest. She occupies herself by grabbing at the curling ends of his hair, which she has taken quite a liking to in the last 5 months. Tessa rolls her eyes, thinking back to two months ago when she (not so blatantly) suggested (told) him to cut it, but he refused.  ****  
** **

“Tess, I can’t. What if she doesn’t recognize me!”  ****  
** **

She had regretted asking, “Who?”  ****  
** **

“Rosie!” ****  
** **

“Scott, that’s ridiculous . You need a haircut.”  ****  
** **

“Nope, not happening. What if she doesn't recognize me without my hair? Or worse, she only likes me for my hair.” He had seemed horrified at his comment (despite it being entirely implausible as Rosie was only three months old). “Sorry, can’t risk it.”  ****  
** **

At least he had laid off the hair gel, Tessa rationalizes while digging her toes in the warm sand. Rosie giggles, tugging at the end of Scott’s hair. He lets out a small yelp that sends a large grin spreading across Tessa’s face.  ****  
** **

“Maybe we should find something else to play with,” Scott suggests to the infant as if pitching an idea to a board of directors.  ****  
** **

Through her dark (Bonlook) sunglasses, Tessa watches Scott swing Rosie up off his chest, sit up, then plop her back down on his knee. Her tutu style bottom flops up in the wind, making her giggle while the edge of her thumb comes to rest in the corner of her mouth. Tessa watches, mesmerized by how Kaitlyn and Andrew managed to make such a cute little wonder. She nearly misses the sinister smirk that plays on Scott’s face.  ****  
** **

“Why don’t we go play in the water, huh Rosie?” He tickles her stomach, releasing another fit of giggles. “Does that sound fun?” ****  
** **

Tessa nearly catapults herself off the beach towel. “Scott, no!”  ****  
** **

Her skating partner flashes her a passing glance as he lifts Rosie on his hip then starts towards the end of the beach. Once again, Tessa finds herself distracted. However, this time, she gets caught up watching the muscles of Scott's bare back flex as he walks to water. Quickly, she finds herself shaking it off. Remember your lists, she reminds herself, then scurries after the destructive duo. 

“Scott,” she shouts whilst dogging kid’s sandcastles and abandoned beach toys. 

His head whips around as if shocked to see her standing behind him, on hips like a stern babysitter.  ****  
** **

“C’mon, T. It’ll be fun.” Rosie gurgles as if agreeing.  ****  
** **

“She’s only been  _ near  _ the water once, and that was with Kaitlyn and Andrew. Why don’t we just wait for them to come back?”  ****  
** **

“You hear that,” Scott tells the baby perched on his hips. She nods, thumb still in her mouth. “You’ve already done this before. You’re gonna be a pro.”  ****  
** **

If eyes could roll out of heads, Tessa’s would have been long gone. “That’s seriously not what I meant. She’ll probably hate it anyway.”  ****  
** **

Scott shakes his head. Rosie imitates him. Tessa rolls her eyes, again.  ****  
** **

“Ye of little faith,” Scott answers before plucking Rosie of his hip, holding her up by her bottom, and gently lowering her until her feet just barely dangle over the surface of the water.  ****  
** **

“Scotttttt.”   


He lowers Rosie just enough so her toes dip in the cool lake water. A thunderous giggle erupts from the little toddler. She kicks out her legs, asking to be lowered further into the water. Scott obliges, much to the dismay of Tessa who stands stunted watching Rosie laugh. Who knew such a loud sound could come from such a small body?    ****  
** **

“See, Tess. She loves it.”  ****  
** **

Rosie giggles again as a wave crashes to shore, drenching her chubby feet in sand and lake water. The cold temperature of the lake, or even the amount of bacteria festering in the sand, probably wasn’t good for a growing baby, but Tessa couldn’t find it in her to tell him to stop. How could she when Rosie looked like she was having the time of her life? Rosie’s tutu style skirt blew up in the wind as Scott lowered her a little more so her diaper clad butt hung mere milliliters from the surface of the water. Scott’s hair hung over his face in fluffy curls, but not enough to mask the child like smile on his face. From the way Scott played with Rosie, a passerby would think he was her dad. Still laughing along with her, Scott shifts to kneel in the water, hosting Rosie a little higher in the air so her chubby legs could splash around.  ****  
** **

Kaitlyn’s voice echoes over the beach as she rounds the corner of the boardwalk, drinks in hand and husband at her side. “Stealing my baby again, I see.”  ****  
** **

Rosie perks up even more at the sound of her mom's voice, straining in Scott’s arms to turn her head.  ****  
** **

Mark appears behind Kaitlyn and Andrew, drinks in hand, and Scott’s new girlfriend at his side. Tessa stares at the unlikely pair, knowing full well Scott was seeing it too. It wasn’t the strange relationship the unlikely duo had to her and Scott her brain was trying to muddle over, but rather the strange resemble (or lack there of) that was glaring her in the face.  ****  
** **

Helen, the name of Scott’s new fling, was identical to Tessa in the most basic ways. Down to the dark long hair and sharp pale eyes. It would be easy to see how one could point out the resemblance. But where Helen was soft and curvy, Tessa was all lean muscle. Years of training hadn’t honed her for beauty, but for performance. Tessa wasn’t embarrassed by it though. How could she be when this body has won her five Olympic medals. Instead, she more found it intriguing how Scott would pick someone so like her, but not in the ways that it mattered.  ****  
** **

On the flip side, Mark and Scott couldn’t be more different. Where one was sporting dark messy hair, the other’s was clipped short and blonde. Brown eyes versus blue eyes. Buff against lean. Where Mark was built for weight lift at the gym, Scott’s body was toned on a performance level. Scott’s body has quite literally been honed, since day one, to mold to hers. He was built to fit her curves, trained to lift her and only her.  ****  
** **

Tessa swallows sharply, wondering if there was ever a good time or place to unpack all that. Probably not, she figures, while resenting the fact that Scott was still standing behind her, shirtless. Scott, whose hands were trained to know every inch of her body, standing behind her shirtless and holding a baby.  ****  
** **

Fuck.  ****  
** **

Granted, to the public eye, his hand didn’t know  _ every  _ inch of her body. That was another lie. They hadn’t talked about in years, but Tessa finds herself thinking about it now. If Mark asked, which he had, he would get the very basic and generic answer.  ****  
** **

“We never dated.” Not technically a lie. “Unless you count that time when we were eight and ten.” Cue her awkward laughter.  ****  
** **

Tessa wonders if he ever told McKenna about their history, or even Helen. She can’t decide if she hopes he did, like the releasing of some evil curse from a tomb, or didn’t, and it was just their secret to keep. She mentally adds it to her list of things not to think about. ****  
** **

“You okay, Tess?”  ****  
** **

Scott’s beside her, his bare chest nearly touching her shoulder. Rosie is cradled on his hip.  ****  
** **

“Yeah. Great,” she responds, a little too clipped.  ****  
** **

“You were just kind of quiet there.” ****  
** **

“Just tired from the heat.”  ****  
** **

Scott seems to take this with ease, nodding along before passing a glance at Rosie. She smiled over her thumb. Kaitlyn trots over, waving her hands out to her baby girl who starts kicking her feet in response. Scott reluctantly passes Rosie over.  ****  
** **

“Were you playing in the water,” Kaitlyn asks Rosie in an overly high pitched voice.  ****  
** **

“And she loved it.” Scott counters. He shakes Rosie foot then disappears up the beach to greet Helen, even though they had only been apart for ten minutes.  ****  
** **

Tessa adds ‘obsessively rolling her eyes’ to her list of things not to do, right under cooking.  ****  
** **

“She’s cute,” Kaitlyn remarks.  ****  
** **

It takes Tessa a second to realize she’s talking about Helen and not Rosie. Scott’s new fling, on account of the last one after McKenna only last a month, was not what Tessa wanted to talk about. “Have you guys thought about returning to show skating yet,” Tessa quickly changes the topic.  ****  
** **

“Andrew likes coach for now, and I don’t want leave Rosie yet.”  ****  
** **

“Does that mean you’re officially retired from skating?”  ****  
** **

Kaitlyn ponders the question while bouncing the giggly infant on her hip. Her hair was strategically pulled into a ponytail so Rosie couldn’t tug at it, much to her disappoint. “Not sure yet. I don’t think I want to be done, at least with show skating, but it might not be feasible anymore.”  ****  
** **

“You know I’m always willing to help out.” She has to stop herself forming saying ‘we,’ not that she would really know which context she was using it in. Was ‘we’ her and Scott, or her and Mark?  ****  
** **

“Of course, but Andrew keeps talking about having another baby so physically I might not be in shape. Plus the time commitment and the travel.”  ****  
** **

The travelling would be a nightmare, Tessa considers. “ Well if there’s anything I can do to help.”  ****  
** **

Kaitlyn smirks. “Since you asked….”  ****  
** **

“You want me to watch Rosie,” Tessa laughs.  ****  
** **

“Just for one night! Andrew and I haven’t had a date night in forever.” Kaitlyn huffs as Rosie starts squealing in her arms. “I swear, every time I mention going on a date night she does this.” Rosie wails, kicking her chubby feet into Kaitlyn's thigh. Her face turns a bright shade of pink and other moms start to glare.  ****  
** **

“Here, let me try,” Tessa offers, scooping up Rosie from Kaitlyn. She knees down, balancing the crying infant on her knee as a wave approaches. Rosie’s cries turn into giggles as the water splashes up her legs.  ****  
** **

“You’re going to be a great mom,” Kaitlyn sighs. Tessa mentally adds that comment to her list of things not to think about. Soon those lists are going to be too long to keep track of

* * *

****

He had asked her to move in over dinner one night, between a mouthful of shanghai noodles and steamed vegetables. Tessa had nearly choked on her food, enough to warrant a long gulp of white wine, but that was also to calm her nerves.  ****  
** **

“What,” she sputtered.  ****  
** **

“Well think about,” Mark had said casually while whirling his fork in the takeout Chinese food container. “It would be much more convenient for you since my place is close to the rink and your office work. It’s right down the block from that Italian place you like.” She did really like that Italian place. “And you’re here enough already. It makes sense.” ****  
** **

How was she to say no? Logically, he had made the most compelling case one could make. Was she supposed to tell him then, 10 months into their relationship, that she wasn’t actually serious about him. Tessa figured she could ‘move-in’ for a week or two, then stage an awful fight to get out of it. But 2 months later and here she was, still living in Mark’s apartment. At least he had gotten the fireplace fixed.  ****  
** **

However, it looked as if her plan for escape was fast approaching.  ****  
** **

“A business trip? Seriously?”  ****  
** **

Mark’s suitcase lay open on the bed, clothes and toiletries haphazardly thrown in. Tessa leans back against the wall, cross her arms over her chest. If looks could kill… ****  
** **

“I know it’s last minute,” Mark’s voice echoes from their closet. “But Kieran got sick so he can’t present to the investors. My boss asked me to cover.”  ****  
** **

Tessa refrains from rolling her eyes, even though he isn’t there to see it and bitch about it. Mark hated whenever she rolled her eyes, maybe that’s why she had started doing it more often.  ****  
** **

“I didn’t even know you were on the project,” she responds innocently. ****  
** **

Mark pokes his head out of the closet, looking vaguely annoyed. No, Tessa decides, extremely annoyed. Good, at least they were on the same page.  ****  
** **

“Where are my grey trousers?”  ****  
** **

She rolls her eyes. Mark huffs. “How the hell would I know.”  ****  
** **

Tessa liked playing the innocent game, it was quite amusing, especially when it pisses off Mark. A stray thought at the back of her mind reminds her she wouldn’t be getting sex tonight now, and that pisses her off even more.  ****  
** **

“It’s not like I planned this, baby.”  ****  
** **

Tess scoffs, knowing full well Mark knew she hated being called baby. He is playing dirty. “Don’t ‘baby’ me! What about brunch with your mom, and you were supposed to help me babysit Rosie tomorrow night.”  ****  
** **

His heads disappears back into the closet with a long drawn out, “Tessssssa.”  ****  
** **

He sometimes said her name like that in bed. Now it made her want to toss his suitcase out the window. She bites the inside of the cheek, preferring to let Mark dig himself a bigger hole.  ****  
** **

“Cancel it, or whatever. I don’t care,” he shouts. A tie comes sailing out the closet, falling just short of his suitcase. “You don’t even like babysitting anyway.”  ****  
** **

Oh, he really doesn’t know her at all. But the last thing Tessa wants to do is get into the whole baby fiasco right now. All she really wants to do is punch Mark upside the head, but she refrains from doing that too. ****  
** **

“That’s not the point. You were supposed to help me, that’s what boyfriends do.”  ****  
** **

Mark steps out of the closet, an arrangement of ties grasped in one hand and a suit jacket in the other. His hair is a disheveled mess and Tessa takes an immense amount of pleasure in witnessing his panicked state.  ****  
** **

“Why don’t you ask Scott then.”  ****  
** **

She walks out of the room.  ****  
** **

* * *

****

She spends the rest of the evening sulking, firming planted in the corner of the couch with a book. Choice curse words occasionally echo from the bedroom, but she indignantly ignores them. A smile creeps on her face at the knowledge that, even as a grown man, Mark has no idea how to pack for a trip, thus the colourful string of curse words. When they had gone on a weekend trip together last month, Tessa had to pack his bag for him.  ****  
** **

Around six thirty, when they would normally be sitting down to dinner (over cooked meat, if it was his turn, and take out if it was her turn to cook), Mark struts out of the bedroom with his suitcase. Tessa keeps her eyes on the book, even though she had long ago lost her place.  ****  
** **

Mark leans over the back of the couch to peck her on the cheek with barely a “see you later,” before he was slamming the front door.  Awesome,  Tessa thinks, digging through the kitchen drawer to find the takeout pizza menu.  ****  
** **

She cancels brunch with his mom, figuring it’s best to keep the relatives far away. Especially since she plans to break up with him in the immediate future. Tessa ponders the idea of just packing up her things and leaving without telling him, but decides she’s not  _ that _ mean.  ****  
** **

“Are you sure you’re good on your own,” Kaitlyn asks, standing in the doorway of Tessa’s (Mark’s?) apartment. Kaitlyn nervously twists at her bracket, a bad habit of when she got nervous. Andrew notices and puts a steady hand on her back.  ****  
** **

“She’ll be fine,” Andrew assured her. Kaitlyn glances back at Tessa, waiting for her to agree.  ****  
** **

“I’ll be fine,” Tessa agrees, passing a gracious look to Andrew. “Now get going, you don’t want to miss your reservation.”  ****  
** **

Andre tries to pull Kaitlyn back, but she stays rooted in place. “By baby,” she whispers to Rosie who was happily resting on Tessa’s hip. Kaitlyn adds a small wave for good measure. “We’ll be back in the morning. Seven am.”  ****  
** **

“Eight,” Andrew counters.  ****  
** **

“Seven-thirty.”  ****  
** **

“Eight.”  ****  
** **

“Fine,” Kaitlyn huffs, bopping Rosie on the nose. “Bye, Rosie. Bye, Tess.” With Rosie’s hand, Tessa makes the infant wave as Andrew half drags Kaitlyn down the hall.  ****  
** **

“Alright, just you and me, kid,” Tessa mutters, closing the door. Rosie blinks up at her, huge blue eyes obstructed by obscenely long lashes. She has a toy moose clutched in one hand while the other grasps at the back of Tessa’s blouse. Ironically, the stuffed moose was a present from Scott. A frown starts to work it’s way on Rosie’s face, so Tessa quickly starts bouncing her on her hip.  ****  
** **

“It’s okay, Rosie. It’s okay.”  ****  
** **

Tessa puts Rosie down in the borrowed crib that Andrew had set up in the living room, and starts digging around in the baby bag for Rosie’s play mat and mobile.  ****  
** **

A loud cry erupts from the infant. She kicks and flails her legs, her face turning a bright shade of pink.  ****  
** **

“Aw, Rosie,” Tessa whispers, picking her up and cradling her against her chest. Rosie continues crying. But despite her tears, keeps the stuffed moose clutched tightly in her hand. Tessa rocks back and forth, holding Rosie’s head protectively against her shoulder. “It’s okay. Mommy will be back soon.”  ****  
** **

Rosie starts to quiet down after a few minutes, whimpering against Tessa’s shoulder. Tessa breathes a sigh of relief. The last thing she wanted to do was interrupt Kaitlyn and Andrew’s date night over a little fuss. Deciding Rosie has calmed down enough, Tessa gently lays her down on the play mat and positions the mobile above her. To Tessa’s delight, Rosie squeals and starts playfully grasping at the dangling toys.  ****  
** **

The next few hours go by without a hitch. The TV plays a few reruns of ‘Friends,’ while Tessa spends most of the evening engrossed in the work on her laptop. Exclusive clothing lines for Adidas don’t make themselves. She gets up every few minutes to check on Rosie, changing her twice and feeding her once. She even manages to send off a few emails with Rosie’s bottle in one hand and the infant spread out on her lap, a feat she applauds herself for. It isn’t until eleven o’clock, long after Rosie is settled down in the crib for bed, that chaos ensues.  ****  
** **

Screams rings off every corner of the apartment, giving Tessa the strong desire to rip her ears off. Rosie clings to Tessa’s worn out Team Canada shirt, the stuffed moose long since chucked at the wall. Tessa bounces up and down, holding Rosie against her shoulder in an attempt to quiet her down. Tear stains drop down Rosie’s cheeks soaking the fabric of Tessa’s shirt. She makes four trips around the apartment while continuously asking Rosie what she wants. This doesn’t prove to be very effective, but it makes Tessa feel a little more in control.  ****  
** **

At the half hour mark, having already tried changing and feeding Rosie, Tessa caves. Who says she needs kids anyway. Maybe this was her wake up call to tell her she wasn’t meant to be a mom. How could she survive eighteen years with her own kid if she couldn’t calm down Rosie for five minutes.  ****  
** **

Scott answers on the second ring. “Tess,” he asks, his voice groggy with sleep.  ****  
** **

“I need help,” she pleads over Rosie’s screams. The infant has taken up kick too, much to Tessa’s delight.  ****  
** **

He shows up fifteen minutes later, more calm and collected than Tessa has ever seen him. Rosie continues to cry while Tessa bounces her on her hip. Tessa nearly collapses in relief when Scott lifts Rosie into his arms. She stares at the screaming infant whose face now resembles the shade of a tomato, wondering how she wasn’t winded or at least tired.  ****  
** **

“Hey Rosie,” Scott whispers while cradling her in his arms.  ****  
** **

“She hasn’t stopped crying for nearly an hour,” Tessa pleads, hating herself for sounding so desperate. “I didn’t know what else to do.”  ****  
** **

“It’s okay,” Scott responds, but Tessa’s unsure whether he was talking to her or Rosie.  ****  
** **

“I tried feeding her, changing her, but nothing worked.”  ****  
** **

Scott glances up at her through his messy hair and smiles graciously, as if he was happy to have been woken up to come help her. Maybe he was.  ****  
** **

“Did you try the TV?”  ****  
** **

“What?”  ****  
** **

“The TV,” Scott clarifies, as if she was deaf and didn’t hear him the first time. Maybe she was, with Rosie’s persistent screaming it wouldn’t surprise her. “The sound sometimes helps. It’s a trick I use on my nephew.”  ****  
** **

Tessa nods vaguely, more delirious than anything to no longer have a screaming baby in her arms. Scott flops down on the couch as if he had lived there his whole life, then starts flipping through her channels.  ****  
** **

“I don’t have any kids channels,” she mumbles.  ****  
** **

“That’s okay.” He lands on the rerun marathon of ‘Friends.’ Rosie twists in his arms, searching for the source of the new noise. Scott moves her on to his lap while Tessa comes to sit on the couch beside him. “It gives her something else to focus on.”  ****  
** **

Tessa nods again and Scott’s starts to chuckle as Rosie quiets down. ****  
** **

“My nephew was always a fan of friends too.” But Tessa shhhh’s him, afraid Rosie will start up again. The infant bounces mindlessly on Scott’s knee, engrossed in the antics of Phoebe and Joey.  ****  
** **

“Thank you,” Tessa whispers. She leans her head against Scott’s shoulder, worn out like she just skated a ten minute Olympic program.  ****  
** **

“Any time,” Scott returns, almost too quiet for Tessa to hear.  ****  
** **

They stay like that, frozen, watching Rosie slowly fall back against Scott’s chest and drift off amid the classic TV show theme song. It took two episodes, but she was finally back asleep.  ****  
** **

Part of her wants to think this was a bad idea, agreeing to watch Rosie on her own. But somehow she finds herself content watching Scott settle Rosie back into the crib, almost gleeful. He turns back to her, messy haired and ruffled shirt. It was the Maple Leaf's shirt she had gifted to him three years ago on Christmas. By now it was slightly stretched out and there was a small hole near the bottom hem, but she smiled stupidly knowing he still wore it. ****  
** **

“I should get going,” Scott says in a whisper.  ****  
** **

“Do you want to stay for a cup of coffee,” she responds, so loudly she almost claps a hand over her mouth. But Rosie doesn’t stir.  ****  
** **

Scott passed a look back at Rosie, then at the large antique clock over the fireplace, even though it didn’t show the right time. “Okay.”  ****  
** **

Dispute the chaos in the living room, the kitchen is still spotless as ever, so Tessa gets to work pulling out mugs and Keurig pods.  ****  
** **

“So where’s Mark,” Scott asks over his steaming mug.  ****  
** **

“Business trip,” Tessa responds indifferently. She averts her eyes down to the counter to signal that she didn’t wish to discuss it further, even though she was itching to tell him everything. She wants to tell him how she sometimes hated the way he spoke to her, but how she also loved the way he paid attention to her favorite books. Of course she had always meant to end things with Mark, by why hadn’t she yet? She wants to take him by the shoulder, shake him senseless, and ask why he had ever let her move in with Mark.  ****  
** **

Scott nods with an air of professionalism, and Tessa starts to wonder at what point their connection started to fade. After the comeback? When she started dating Mark? Or could it be traced all the way back to that first night in Vancouver, both of them fresh of the high of winning gold.  ****  
** **

“What happened,” she whispers, halfway hoping he doesn’t hear her. But he does.  ****  
** **

“To what?”  ****  
** **

She swallows a dry pill and leans over the counter to face him. Then, “To us?”  ****  
** **

Scott, too, seams to go speechless. He tilts the mug up to his lips, but then puts it back down without taking a drink. “What do you mean?”  ****  
** **

“Don’t play dumb,” Tessa snaps a little too harshly. “You used to be able to tell exactly what I was thinking with just a glance. What happened?” Perhaps this wasn’t the best time for this conversation, Tessa decides, but it was too late to back track now.  ****  
** **

He swallows, running a clumsy hand through his hair. “I don’t know,” he sighs. ****  
** **

“I don’t ether.” ****  
** **

Silence fills the kitchen, making the air stiff. “Was it something I did,” she breathes ****  
** **

Scott jerks his head fast as if he just heard Rosie cry out again, but only silence rings through the apartment. He stares at her, brown eyes wide and chin quivering. “No.”  ****  
** **

“Then what?”  ****  
** **

Another sigh, then, “I don’t know, Tess. I wish I did.”  ****  
** **

She drops her head, hair hanging over and draping on the counter. She feels like crying and screaming all at once but she does nether. Perhaps it had been better if he had just left before.  ****  
** **

Her breathe hitches in her throat when his hands fall on her waist. He had moved from across the island and now stood behind her. Scott leans down, brushing the hair delicately off her shoulder to bury his face in her neck. Tingles run up her spine as he lets out a breath against her skin, subconsciously matching his breathing to hers. His lips press gently against the soft skin of her neck while his arms tighten across her waist. There was that line, blurry and indistinguishable from one side or the other.  ****  
** **

“Tess,” he breathes. Her name drips from his tongue like honey. “I’m sorry.”  ****  
** **

She pushes back against him, desperate to feel his arms protectively wrapped around her. He allows her to turn around before his head disappears back into her neck. Tessa circles her arms around his rib cage while his remain firmly around her waist. Scott mumbles her name repeatedly against her neck, each one sending vibrations down to her feet and into the floorboards.  ****  
** **

“I’m sorry,” she whispers back, her words muffled against his shirt.  ****  
** **

When he finally pulls away, even though she doesn’t want him to, she finds a silent tear escaping from the corner of his eye. Gently, she reaches up and whips it away with the sleeve of her blouse. A sad smile toys at the corner of her mouth, one Scott returns hesitantly. This man, with his messy hair and sad smiles, is going to ruin me, Tessa decides.  ****  
** **

“I missed you,” He mumbles, still careful not to talk too loud least they wake Rosie. The corner of his mouth dips downward as she blinks back tears. What happened to being the controlled one, the one who had her emotions in check, Tessa wonders. Surely this what not what anyone thought of when the name Tessa Virtue was mentioned. Not some girl holding back tears in her kitchen due to over exhaustion and complicated feelings.  ****  
** **

“Me too.” She makes her best effort at a smile. Fortunately, Scott sees right through it.  ****  
** **

“You’re exhausted.”  ****  
** **

She nods, no energy left to deny it. Wordlessly, she lets him guide her to her bedroom. But she shakes her head ‘no’ at the last minute, steering them across the hall to the guest room. She doesn’t feel like dealing with the inevitable mess left my Mark or the explanation that would have to follow. Tessa climbs under the covers and Scott disappears momentarily. He turns, cradling a sleeping Rosie, who he gently placed on Tessa’s chest before disappearing once again. This time he returns hauling the crib and diaper bag into the guest room.  ****  
** **

“So you don’t have to go too far if she wakes up,” He reasons, returning Rosie to the crib with a kiss to her head.  ****  
** **

Tessa snuggles under the covers, all too happy to drift off to sleep. But when Scott starts to leave she pulls on his hand until he slides into the bed beside her. As kids, they used to share a bed when they were away at competitions. Scott would knock on her hotel door, when they were old enough to travel without their parents but not quite old enough to evade homesickness, and crawl into the bed beside her. Sometimes she would rest her head on his chest and listen to his breathing. Other times they would lay there silently, staring up at the popcorn ceilings, known each others presence was enough. Now they lay side by side, staring at each other in the darkness. They weren’t touching, not even a finger tip, but Tessa aches to reach out and brush her hand against his, if only for some sort of reassurance. She drifts off to sleep before she gets a chance, and the next time she wakes up to Rosie’s crying, he’s gone.  ****  
** **

* * *

****

Mark returns on Monday, a huge bouquet of flowers balanced delicately on top of a box of chocolates. Tessa wants to hate him, she really does, especially after her night with Scott and Rosie, but she also really likes chocolate. He pulls her in for a kiss while she breathes in his familiar scent of pine needles and coffee.  ****  
** **

“I got us a reservation at that fancy French place downtown,” he mumbles while pressing his lips against hers.  ****  
** **

“Oh,” she responds, mentally kicking herself for sounding like such a floozy.  ****  
** **

“As an apology for being such an ass.”  ****  
** **

She steps back, taking the chocolate and flowers with her. “You were an ass,” Tessa calls over her shoulder while strutting into the kitchen. She’s dressed in tight jeans, knowing full well Mark was staring at her ass the whole way into the kitchen.  ****  
** **

“Yeah,” He says, leaning his suitcase against the couch, where only a day before she had sat cuddled with Scott and a screaming baby. “Sorry about that. I was stressed.”  ****  
** **

“I know.”  ****  
** **

He passes her a knowing smile before placing his hands on her hips and his lips against her cheek. Tessa’s no idiot, she knows what that gesture means, but she’s not that ready to forgive him.  ****  
** **

“Sorry,” she tisk’s, slipping out of his reach. “Have to go get ready for dinner.”  ****  
** **

Mark huffs but smiles at her anyway before she vanishes down the hall. Tessa decides to ignore her conflicted feelings upon seeing him again in favour of a nice meal. She can deal with that after she’s eaten a decent sized portion of pasta  _ and _ a slice of cake. Mark wasn’t getting off that easy. ****  
** **

She reappears forty minutes later in a tight black dress with matching heels and curled hair. From the corner of the kitchen, Mark smirks, taking in the full view as Tessa struts around the kitchen. He too is cleaned up nicely, or as nicely as Tessa thinks she’s ever seen him.  ****  
** **

“Ready to go?” ****  
** **

I jolt runs up her spine as he grabs her arm, making her want to pull away, but she doesn’t. The out of character behavior from him throws her off. Tessa isn’t used to fancy chocolate, large flower bouquets, and punctual dinner reservations, at least not from Mark. Granted, Scott was never one to be punctual. ****  
** **

“Yup,” Tessa responds, lips forming a tight smile.  ****  
** **

Mark rests a hand on her back as they make their way out of the apartment, even opening the door for her on the way out. Something was off, Tessa figures. Is  _ he  _ breaking up with her? Was he cheating on her? Was that really a business trip he was on?  ****  
** **

The restaurant is crowded, over packed with women in dazzling jewelry and men in tailored suits. Mark pulls the chair out for her before taking at the seat at the table across from her. Tessa, the once again responsible adult, decides maybe this is the right time to start drinking. She reaches for the wine bottle, but Mark stops her with a hand on her arm. An over exaggerated smile is plastered on his face, one that makes Tessa unease. Mark seems to sense this and drops his hand.  ****  
** **

“I know I was an ass the other day.” Tessa hums. “But I was just stressed and I never meant to hurt you like that. What I said was out of line. I know whatever you and Scott have is special and I should never have crossed that line.”  ****  
** **

She thinks back to the other night, Scott’s breath on her neck and his hands on her waist in a way Mark would despise; Scott’s fingers in her hair and his lips on her cheek. Special is the understatement of the century.  ****  
** **

She nods as if to show she’s still listening, but her thoughts are shattered with memories of Scott and their ‘special’ relationship.  ****  
** **

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is, well,” Mark stumbles over his words. “You are the most special person in my life.” There’s that word again; special. “And I can’t imagine a life without you. You’re courageous, unique, and care so much about everyone around you. You make me a better version of myself.”  ****  
** **

Tessa silently cuss’s, wishing she had been able to pour herself a big glass of red wine. How was she supposed to break up with him after this sappy apology?  ****  
** **

Mark stands up, taking Tessa’s hand in his, then bends down and produces a black velvet box. Shit. 

“Will you marry me?” 


	3. Dying Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow this took much longer than I anticipated. University took up a lot more time than I thought it would, but it's summer time, which means I'm back! Thank you to everyone still readings this and hopefully this chapter is worth the wait.

The ceiling spins and Tessa’s head pounds. She groans, flopping over onto her stomach and pressing her face into the smooth darkness of her pillow. Despite the dizziness and the wicked headache, she can still recall back to the last time she had a hangover this bad.

It was winter of her grade ten year. She had convinced Scott to take her to a house party wherein she proceeded to get drunk enough off cheap beer to work up the courage to kiss Jamie Atwood. It ended with her stumbling down the stairs in a drunken haze, effectively embarrassing herself in front of Jamie, and ended in her begging Scott to take her home. Not to mention the fact that he had to pull over on the way back to let her hurl on the side of the road. She had decided then and there that a) boys were stupid (that one held up a surprisingly long time) and that b) she would never drink that much again.

Well now here she was, suffering the goddamn consequences of her own actions. Except this time she had a pretty good reason to drink. A marriage proposal that one didn’t want, or even expect, could make anyone reach for a bottle of wine… or two.

She stretches out her hand, feeling around the bedside table for the glass of water she was smart enough to have put out in preparation. She chugs it in one go, only to be left with the same headache and now an over whelming sense of nausea.

“Awesome,” she groans, tossing the empty glass on to her bedsheet. She gazes across the room and finds herself staring at Mark’s suit jacket on the chair, draped casually as if he just got back from work. Then his watch, one of many, sitting on the dresser; his cufflinks on the bedside table; his unfinished book with dog eared pages on the floor. If its one thing Tessa can’t stand its people who dog ear pages, but withers at the fact she had made an exception for him.

With another groan she heaves herself off the bed, doing her best not to stare down the book like it’s a murder weapon, and heads down the hall to get some more water. She ignores the fact her kitchen is cluttered with empty wine bottles and a half-eaten tub of ice cream.

After chugging another glass of water, which, apparently not having learned for the first time, leaves her with more nausea, she reluctantly checks her phone.

Three missed calls. Two from her mother, which she isn’t eager to follow up on, and one from Kaitlyn. Four texts, one in particular from Mark who hopes she will ‘take all the time she needs to think it through’ and wants to remind her that he ‘loves her.’

Tessa has a sudden urge to chuck her phone across the apartment. Instead she dials Kaitlyn’s number.

“Hey.” Her voice is high pitched and loud through the speakers, making Tessa wince.

“Hi,” she mumbles back, trying to make it sound like she’s not ready to curl into a ball with the remaining tub of ice cream. “You called?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to confirm on our dinner tonight. Andrew wants to know if you want red or white… or both?”

Tessa sighs, running a hand through her tangled hair. She had completely forgotten about dinner plans at Kaitlyn’s with Scott and Patrick.

“Kat, I’m sorry,” she mumbles. “I can’t make it.”

“Oh,” Kaitlyn’s voice rings clearly over the speaker. “Why not? Are you okay?”

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”

There’s a long pause which is filled with Tessa’s awkward fidgeting around the kitchen. Then: “You’re lying.”

Tessa scoffs. “I’m not. Something came up that’s all.”

Kaitlyn sighs. “You’re mumbling. You never mumble. Only when you’re drunk or,” another pause. “When you’re trying to hide something.” Another agonizing pause. “Or both.”

“I’m not hiding anything!”

“Then you’re drunk.”

“It’s 10am!”

“Then what are you hiding.”

“Nothing.”

“What is it? Did you steal a pack of gum? Spill red wine on Mark’s shirt? Lie on your taxes?”

Tessa rolls her eyes. “That’s tax fraud.”

“I’m not hearing a no?” Kaitlyn’s soft laugh fills the awkward pause. “Tessa, you’re a horrible liar.”

She stares restlessly at the empty wine bottles, then the kitchen junk drawer where she so carelessly discarded the ring last night amongst her take out recipes and clipped coupons.

“Mark proposed.”

There’s a long steady silence where Tessa starts chewing on her fingernail, a bad habit of hers from a young age. Then Kaitlyn finally yells “Holy shit.”

Tessa drops her hand and sighs. Wincing again at the loud volume.

“What did he say? Where did he do it? Was it last night? What did _you_ say?”

“Can you lower your volume, please.”

“Tessa, I’m excited for you. Let me be excited. Its not like you’re hung over!” Tessa exhales steadily. “Oh my god you are. What is happening to this god green earth?”

Despite herself, Tessa chuckles. The headache is still making itself known, but her mood has thankfully started to turn. Maybe she should have called Kaitlyn sooner. “It was last night at dinner.”

“I knew it!”

“He brought home flowers and said he wanted to take me out to dinner. Then he got down on one knee in the restaurant, before I could even order my meal, might I add.”

“Wow, that’s eager. What did you say?”

Tessa had been dreading that question. How was she supposed to tell her best friend for nearly 7 years that she had looked her long term boyfriend in the eye, in the middle of a crowded restaurant while he was down on one knee with a ring sporting a diamond the size of her knuckle, and told him ‘maybe.’

“I told him I had to think about it,” she admits with a large degree of reluctance.

“You what,” Kaitlyn sputters.

“I didn’t know what else to say!”

“I mean usually people say yes.” Her voice grows heavy and quieter. “Unless you don’t want to marry him.”

Tessa sighs and she knows that’s enough of an answer for Kaitlyn.

“Have you told Scott?”

“No, why I would I have?”

Kaitlyn sighs, but this time Tessa doesn’t seem to get it. “You know why.”

Tessa shakes her head as if Kaitlyn is right there in the room. “You know its not like that. Stop trying to change the subject.”

“I’m not,” Kaitlyn defends. “But you know I’m right.”

Tessa, not being in a very patient state, isn’t in the mood for un-coding Kaitlyn’s words. “What does that mean.”

“I mean you might say it’s not like that, but he cares for you… a lot. And that boy is going to be devastated if you don’t tell him about this now. Especially if you’re having second thoughts.”

“Why? What do you think he’s gonna do? Challenge Mark for my hand,” Tessa remarks sarcastically.

“You never know,” Kaitlyn answers with the pity dripping from her voice like water from a leaky faucet. “Just think about it.”

Tessa swallows a lump in her throat, wondering what Kaitlyn is on to, and if she really thinks that Scott would fight Mark. But even hungover her knows that would never happen, not if she was truly happy with Mark. Her heart tells her that for her.

“Fine. I’ll think about it.”

Tessa can almost see Kaitlyn smiling. “Why don’t I call up Scott and Patrick and get a rain check for dinner. Instead I can come over with some ice cream and some cheesy movies. I have Top Gun on DVD.”

“How about some pizza instead?” 

* * *

 

Three more days go by before she picks up the phone to talk to Scott, which means three more days of lying to him over text as if nothing is wrong and three more days of not making up her mind about the proposal. Instead she cancels all her plans, including a sponsorship meeting with Best Buy (not that she wanted to partner with them much anyway), and sulks around the house, occasionally staring down her junk drawer in the kitchen but never daring to open it. Tessa spends hours watching reruns of Suits before gets tired of being tired (ironic, right?) and kicks herself into gear.

In the last 24 hours she has the entire apartment cleaned from top to bottom. Every one of Mark’s suits that he left when he went to go stay with a friend while she took her time has been steamed and ironed, which prompted some confusing feelings of indifference and sadness. The wine bottles are taken out to the bottle depot, earning her an impressive $4.50. The floors are dusted, the furniture rearranged, and the oven scrummed down of every last crumb.

Despite all that she still finds herself staring at her phone. Each time she goes to call him her hands start to shake, even the smallest amount, and it catches her off guard enough to stop. It’s pathetic she tells herself. Even if Kaitlyn wasn’t right about anything else, she's right about the fact that he needs to know. Tessa doesn’t like lying, in fact she’s an awful liar as Kaitlyn so excitedly pointed out, but she especially hates lying to Scott. With the help of a glass of wine (perhaps not the best idea given her recent track record), she manages to text him to meet for coffee.

A small part of her hopes that perhaps Scott will just know, as he can so easily guess her every emotion and move every other time. But something tells her this situation is going to need a lot more explaining. She thinks about that fact that this breaches the whole purpose of her so-called lists, but decides they were useless to begin with anyway. They were just an escape route, one that ended up leading her into a dead end, and now all her shit was piling up, fast.

The next day he knocks at her door, coffee in hand. He didn’t even need to ask her drink order, he just knows.

“What’s up, T. Haven’t seen you in a while. Feeling better?”

She takes a gentle sip of her latte, remembering that she told him she was sick to postpone skating practices. “Yeah,” she says. “Much better.” So much for telling the truth.

“Glad to hear.” He takes a spot on a stool on the kitchen island like he owns the place. It gives her some kind of relief to see him at ease, in her space, not caring about personal boundaries as those were dissolved a long time ago. Scott eyes a platter of cookies she laid out a few minutes ago.

“Did you bake these?”

“No, I bought them,” She answers, coming around to stand at the other end of the kitchen, leaning against the countertop. Scott grins with a wicked smile and snatches two from the top of the pile. Tessa lets out a small laugh knowing he probably wouldn’t have touched them if she had told him she baked them. The last time she baked cookies she nearly set the house on fire, not to mention to molasses she used for the ginger snaps was three years past its expiry date. Scott had choked down a single bite before making her promise never to bake cookies again. So far that promise held.

“What did you wanna talk about,” he asks through a mouthful of cookie crumbs.

Tessa rolls her eyes but decides to come right out and say it. No point in small talk, Tessa and Scott don’t do small talk, not since they were five and seven years old.

“Mark asked me to marry him.”

Scott chokes on his half-eaten cookie, turning ghostly pale as if he’s about to kneel over and hurl. He reaches for his coffee, taking a long sip while Tessa analyzes him from across the kitchen. His hands are stiff, and his eyebrow is furred, but she can’t gauge his reaction yet.

“Are you okay,” she asked tentatively.

“Are you,” Scott counters, setting down his coffee cup like it made of delicate porcelain glass. Tessa nods calmly. “I guess you haven’t said yes otherwise you would have said so.”

Tessa purses her lips and glances quickly at the junk drawer. “I said I had to think about it.”

Scott chuckles but silences himself with a sharp glare from Tessa. “Sorry,” he says awkwardly clearing his throat. Tessa rolls her eyes, fighting off the urge to laugh with him. She always felt calmer around him. Something about Scott’s calm demeanor and youthful attitude made her want to laugh about the stupid situation she managed to get herself in.

“So you weren’t really sick,” Scott asks, framing it more like a statement than a question.

“No.”

Scott chuckles. “You’re a horrible liar, Tessa.”

“So I’ve been told,” Tessa responds with a hint of a smile.

Suddenly Scott’s expression drops, and he swallows rigidly. “Do you really want to marry him, Tess?”

She fiddles with the sleeve of her coffee cup, trying to figure out what to say. Yes, but out of guilt and pity. No, because she’s not sure she truly loves him. Yes, because she doesn’t want to end up alone while she watches him marry some beautiful woman and run around with his children. No, because she’s an awful adult and still so unsure of her feelings after all this time. No, because she’s almost certain Mark is using this proposal to cover up something shady.

No, because she doesn’t want to lose him.  

“I don’t know,” she finally answers.

Scott looks down at the counter like he can’t look at her when he says, “I’ll support you either way.”

“I know,” Tess responds with a long, heavy sigh “What do you think I should do?”

“You know that’s not my call, Kiddo.” The use of her childhood nickname seems to sting now than anything else and she looks back at the junk drawer as of tempting fate.

“I want your opinion.”

“Tess.”

“Scott,” she counters, leaning over the kitchen counter.

He looks at her and for a second, she can see his whole heart shattering in his chest and his eyes going empty. “I think you should do what makes you happy, and if he makes you happy like I think he does… then you should marry him.”

Tessa inhales sharply, looking down at the counter too so she doesn’t have to see the tight lines around his mouth that form when his lying. “You’re sure about that?”

“You deserve to be happy, Tess.”

She ignores the lump in her throat, remembering all the times she felt truly happy with Scott. Nothing would ever defeat her happiness at the Olympic games with Scott; the way he had jumped from the bench and immediately reached to pick her up. The way he had refused to let go of her hand during the whole medal ceremony, or how afterwards on the roof of the training centre, both of them buzzed off soju, he had kissed her and told her he couldn’t live without her. She was too buzzed, and ignorant, to know if he was lying then. But she knows now, regardless of the fact they had never talked about that kiss after it happened, or the events on her white couch.

“Scott.” He jerks his head up sharply and looks at her with sad eyes.

“Don’t make me say it, Tess.”

“Please,” she whispers, her cold coffee long forgotten as she leans further over the island.

“I can’t.”

“Then what was that the other night, when I was babysitting Rosie.”

“I don’t know,” he sighs, knuckles white around his coffee cup.

“Scott.”

“I can’t do this, Tess.”

“We don’t lie to each other!”

“Then stop lying to me,” Scott counters back, refusing to break her gaze. “You want me to make your decision for you and I can’t.”

“Scott…”

“It’s your call Tess,” he says, then gets up and leaves.

* * *

 

She agrees to marry Mark the next day, still with mixed feelings and an attitude of indifference. He scoops her up in his arms, but she can’t help sniffing the collar of his jacket mid embrace for any trace of perfume that’s not hers. He books them a weekend get away to a bed and breakfast to celebrate, but she just spends the whole weekend in apprehension. Tessa buries her nose in a book to avoid discussing wedding plans, but Mark never seems to notice the getaway, and some part of her thinks he may never notice it, even when they marry. She spends time in the shower staring at the ring laying heavy on her finger. She’s not used to the weight, so it throws her off balance slightly, enough that she took it off for skating practice, but not before Scott caught a glance.

Tessa hadn’t felt the need to explicitly tell him after that, but she knew he knew. Scott was tense in training, putting her down from lifts too quickly and missing counts in the music. He skated off halfway through, claiming he wasn’t feeling well. So much for not lying to each other, Tessa figured.

“He’ll come around,” Marie says over brunch a few days later.

“I know,” Tessa responds, pushing around her egg’s benny on the plate. “We just don’t usually fight like this.” Marie France gives her look that was enough to say ‘Sochi’ without actually bring it up. Tessa purses her lips with a small laugh.

“He will. He did then and he will now. Just give him some time. It is a bit of a shock, no one knew you were that serious with him.”

“I didn’t think we were either.” Another quizzical look past between them. “We hadn’t talked about it much, that’s all. I didn’t see it coming. He had just gotten back from a business trip and…” She thought about telling her about her strange suspicions but decided against it. It was probably paranoia anyway; it wasn’t like she always gave Mark the benefit of the doubt and maybe this was a time to start “It was just surprising.”

“Sometimes the things you don’t see coming can turn out to be the greatest part of your life,” Marie responds with a reassuring smile, clearly referring to her wild winded romance with their other coach, Patrice.

“You’re probably right.”

“I know I’m right,” Marie chuckles. “I’m always right.”

Tessa laughs while saying a gentle thank you to her good friend.

* * *

 

Its half past seven on the night she gets the call. Tessa is slouched on the loveseat, a new book in her hand and some left over Thai takeaway on the side table next to her. Mark was working late at work again, some kind of mess up with an investor group at his banking firm. She had shaken her head as if even half of that made any sense but told him she would see him when he got home.

Now she was contently reading, nearly thirty pages into her new book when her phone rang, an alarmingly loud noise in the dead quiet room.

“Hello,” Tessa responds, her attention still half focused on the book.

“Is this Miss. Virtue?”

“Speaking,” she responds, engrossed in the ongoing drama of her book characters.

“I would like to talk to you about Rosie Weaver-Poje.”  

Tessa put down her book and jolted upright in her chair. “I’m sorry what is this about?”

There was a silent pause on the other side of the line before the voice came back again, this time much quieter and with a tinge of sadness. “I’m sorry to say there’s been an accident.”

* * *

 

She spots Scott in the lobby of the Emergency center, sitting on an over worn chair this his forearms resting on his knees and his left foot bouncing up and down on the linoleum flooring.

“Scott,” she whispers approaching him from the front entrance. He shoots out of the chair and scoops her into a tight embrace that catches her off guard. His hands curve around her ribcage like they were molded to her body. When he lets her go, she keeps her hands on his shoulders and gives him a benevolent smile.

“Have you heard anything,” she asks.

Scott shakes his head and for the first time she noticed his eyes were red and puffy like he had been crying. “But an officer did come out about a minute ago to let me know Rosie was stable.”

She eyes him down, her eyebrows furring. “Stable,” she nearly yelled.

“Its okay,” Scott reassures her, running his hands down from her elbows until his hands are clutched in hers. She squeezes involuntarily for some sense of security. “There was a small a bump, they figured she might have a concussion, but its okay.”

“Okay,” Tessa breathes, realizing she was squeezing his hands probably too tightly for comfort. “Sorry,” she says, releasing his hands and taking a seat on one of the chairs stitched with ugly purple fabric.

“It’ll be okay,” Scott says, sitting next to her and draping his arm over her shoulder. Instinctively she leans in, resting her head in the space between his head and his shoulder.

She kept her eyes focused on the dimly light emergency sign on the wall across from them, concentrating on how the red light cascaded along the nearby walls so she didn’t have to think about the fact that Scott’s hand was laced through hers, her engagement ring caught in the middle of it all.

After half an hour of watching the red-light dim in and out, and Scott occasionally running his hand up and down her shoulder, a police officer and a doctor approach them. They both hold a weary gaze and Tessa immediately tenses up.

“Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir,” the police officer says before doing a double take, clearly recognizing their names. Tessa grimaces and stands, unlacing her hand from Scott’s.

“Yes,” Tessa says at the same time that Scott interjects with “Can we get an update?”

The two gentleman pass a look before the doctor looks down at his files and says dryly. “Rosie Weaver-Poje sustained a minor head contusion, nothing major. She’ll make a strong recovery.”

“Kaitlyn and Andrew,” Scott asks reluctantly.

The Police Officer speaks up this time. He speaks with a steady voice and a strong gaze as if he has done this a million times. Tessa’s heart begins to sink before he even starts talking. “Upon heading home from dinner they turned into 5th Avenue and their car collided with another that lost control on black ice.” Tessa splays her fingers outward until they graze against Scott’s. He wraps his hand in hers without thinking. “Mrs. Weaver and Mr. Poje were killed instantly.”

She focuses on the red light pretending to nod and listen. She listens to the sound of nurses walking through the sterile halls, their white shoes clacking in the echoey building. Phones ring behind the long oak desk and papers flutter in and out of filing cabinets. Behind them a little boy plays with a toy truck while his mom sits behind him, her eyes glassy and unfocused on the magazine on her lap. It’s Scott who pulls her back to reality, quite literally with a yank on her hand.

“Tess?’

“Can I use the restroom,” she whispers, walking away before anyone answers her, not that she would have waited for one anyway.

Its only when she’s in front of the mirror in the ladies’ room, staring at her pale complexion and shaky features, that she realizes how selfish it was to leave Scott alone. She sighs, brushing hair back away from her face to splash some cold water on her face, but it does no good. No amount of water splashing, or hand squeezing is going to bring Kaitlyn and Andrew back. Tessa pushes back tears, wiping smudged mascara out from under her eyes with unsteady hands. She tells herself this isn’t happening, but every time she does an image of that police officer appears before her closed eyes, telling her that Kaitlyn and Andrew were dead. They’re gone, their bodies ready to be buried in the ground.

“Tessa?”

Scott pushes open the door, peering in to see her standing at the sinks, her hands braced on the counter as if she’s ready to collapse. He takes steady steps to her like approaching a scared puppy. He runs a gentle hand down her arched back while her arms shake against the weight of supporting herself.

“Its okay,” Scott whispers, trying to calm her down, despite the fact that tear marks run down his own cheeks.

“Its not okay,” Tessa yells, bolting upright from the counter and narrowly hitting him in the side. Her hair is matted like she’s been running her hands through it and her piercing green eyes are cloudy with tears. “They’re dead, Scott. They’re gone.”

“I know,” Scott sighs heavily, thankful that its late at night and no one else happens to be occupying this particular bathroom.

“Do you? Because you’re acting like nothings happened!”

“Tessa…”

“You’re just so calm and I’m a mess. I mean my hands won’t stop shaking and I feel like I can’t breathe. Why can’t I breathe?” She pauses staring at her hands. “Oh god, what if they never stop shaking. Scott...” She stares up at him in horror. “I can’t do this. I just – I can’t.”

She sinks to the floor, curling her knees up to her chest. Scott’s heart breaks watching her curl up on the floor in a heap of tears. Immediately he’s at her side, curling an arm around her back to pull her into his lap. She instinctively tucks her head against his chest while Scott runs his thumb across her cheeks to try and brush away the tears, but its a useless effort. Tessa inhales his sent of lemon verbena and cologne, wrapping her hands around his torso to pull him closer. Scott responds by burying his head against her hair, whispering her name over and over again.

“Tessa, Tessa, Tessa, Tessa.”

She sniffles, moving her head to the crook of his neck while he runs his hand down her back in a soothing motion. “I miss them already,” Tessa whispers, tears still falling down her cheeks.

“I know, I know. I do too.”

While still holding her back, he moves his hand to cup her cheek and raise her face to look up at him. Her cheeks are stained with tear marks and her nose is pale and red. Scott can’t remember ever seeing her look so pale.

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispers. Her eyes were glassy as if she was more looking through him than at him. “I promise. “

Tessa sniffles and closes her eyes. Scott can’t help but stare as her lashes flutter against her cheek bones, so eloquent and fragile at the same time. Without thinking he brushes his thumb across her cheek bone, just barely tapping at her lashes. They flutter open and he watches a single tear leak out of the corner of her left eye. With gentle ease, her hands move up his back, her fingers softly grazing at the soft fabric of his sweatshirt, to cup the sides of his face. One hand was still clutched at her back, holding her against him like she was a ghost ready to disappear. She presses their foreheads together, her eyes fluttering closed again.

“Don’t ever leave me like this,” she murmurs so quietly he can barely hear, yet her breath is soft and warm against his own. He opens his own eyes, and with his heart heavy in his body, responds.

“I promise.”

* * *

 

They are led to a small room with a long wooden table that looks like its seen better days. The walls, at least in Tessa’s opinion, are the ugliest shade of beige, and the air hangs heavy with awkward conversations. Scott, ever the gentleman, pulls a chair out for. She flops down, very un-Tessa-like, with sorrow. Scott takes the chair next to hers, his eyes still puffy and red like her own.

The attorney walks around after shutting the door. She’s dressed in an outdated suit jacket and skirt, and yet Tessa suddenly feels undressed in her leggings and hoodie. She curls in on herself a little more, wrapping her hands protectively around her midsection. Scott glances over at her. He’d never seen her so broken.  The attorney, who introduce herself as Mrs. Paulson (but they could call her Rachel), took a seat across from them, setting a folder of papers on the table.

“I am so sorry for your loss,” Rachel says, with her hands spread on the table. Tessa notices her nails are also painted an ugly purple, not that it matters anyway. Scott nods and whispers a thanks, presumably speaking for both of them. “I’m also sorry this had to happen so fast, but it’s a legal matter that is time sensitive.” Tessa glances over her shoulder with an air of disobedience to watch the nurse scramble behind desks and rush between rooms.

“Did the patients -.”

“Kaitlyn and Andrew,” Scott pipes up. Tessa swings her head around. It’s the most he’s raised his voice since the news. He didn’t even yell back when she was having a full-on panic attack in the bathroom.

“Sorry,” Rachel corrects. “Did Kaitlyn and Andrew ever talk to you about their will?”

Scott nods. “A little,” he mutters. Tessa nods along, not quite trusting herself not to start yelling or to burst into tears.

“Particularly, I’m referring to the custody regarding Rosie Elizabeth Weaver-Poje. They named you two, Tessa Jane McCormick Virtue, and Scott Patrick Moir, as Rosie’s godparents, which means you two now retain legal guardship of her for the time being.”

Tessa saw it coming but she still sucks in a breath when she hears it. She shouldn’t have to be hearing it because Kaitlyn should still be here, and so should Andrew. Kaitlyn should still be her mother, taking her to school in the morning and teaching her how to paint her nails. And Andrew should still be her father, pushing her on the swing in their backyard and making her breakfast in the morning.

“For the time being,” Scott asks rather calmly. Tessa leans back in her chair, deciding to stare at the ceiling instead.

“Pending a court decision, yes, for the time being. You’re looking at about a 2-month timeline until you can take full legal guardianship.”

Tessa speaks up with a shaky voice. “What are our options?”

Scott shots her a puzzled look that she ignores. “I’m sorry,” Rachel mutters, looking taken off guard. Tessa pulls out the deeply buried businesswoman in her and straightens up in her seat, folding her hands on top of the table.

“What are our other options?”

Rachel offers a grim smile and nods. “Well, based on the will you would have to take guardianship now, but only in legality terms, and only for 2 to 3 months. We can talk about approaching other family members to take custody, or one of you can opt to take sole custody, but both of you would have to agree to that.”

Tessa nods while Scott looks at her bewildered. There’s a growing sense of uncertainty in the room and Tessa fears for a second that Scott may start yelling again. Rachel, seeming to sense the tension in the room, takes her leave.

“I’ll let you guys talk it out. I’ll come back in a few minutes.”

As soon as she leaves the room, the one could thing to come out of tonight, Scott whirls on her. “What was that?”

“It was a question,” she answers indifferently. Her hands are still shaking, so she mindfully tucks them under her legs as if to keep them warm.

“But why did you ask it,” he corners her.

“We have to cover our basis, Scott.”

“Not like this.”

“I’m just… I’m not sure I’m ready for this,” she responds. Scott looks at her regretfully.

“You mean you’re not sure you and Mark are ready for this.” Tessa looks up at him through her lashes, then down at the goddamn ring, resentful that he was throwing this at her now.

“Yes,” she admits. “That is what I mean.” She says the second part with annoyance, staring him down like a challenge. Scott gives in.

“I’ll take her.”

“What,” Tessa sputters. This time she’s the one caught off guard.

“You heard me; I’ll take Rosie. I’ll raise her.”

Tessa swallowed tightly, looking at his shaky hands and down cast eyes. Somehow in the last two hours he had aged five years.

“I can’t let you do that, Scott.”

“Then what do you suggest,” he asks, turning is chair to look at her directly. “Kaitlyn and Andrew asked us. They thought about this happening and wanted us to raise her. Even if you don’t want to, and that’s okay, I want to honour my promise.” Guilt spreads through her veins and she starts to feel her hands shaking more. “I’m not going to force this on you, but I don’t want to pawn her off to some relative.”

Tessa clears her throat and looks down at her lap, trying to ignore the way he called her out for wanting to bail out on her promise, a promise she made without really considering the possibility of either of them ever actually dying.

“Sorry,” Scott mumbles. “That didn’t come out right.”

“No, it’s okay, I just… I don’t know how to process this,” Tessa sighs.

Scott, with his ever gentle deminer, takes her hands. Once again, she feels guilt spread through her as she’s made aware of the engagement ring on her left hand.

“I just need some time to think it over. I mean for now I’ll have shared guardianship with you, but I can’t commit just yet, not without weighing my options.”

He raises her hand, the one without the ring, to his lips and kisses it while looking up at her through his own lashes. “Tessa, ever the businesswoman.”

“You’re not mad,” she counters, squeezing his hand in return.

“No, I understand completely. So would Kaitlyn and Andrew.”

She nods, too tired to try and decipher if he’s lying or not. Rachel returns briefly bring with her the chaotic sounds of the hospital before she once again closes the door. She takes her seat again before folding her hands on the table like a lawyer ready to fight a lawsuit in court.

“You’ve made a decision?”

Scott answers for them with a nod.

“Great, you don’t have to tell me now, we can discuss it later. But I do have a few questions for you guys. Firstly, neither of you are married, correct?”

Scott clears his throat awkwardly, but Tessa speaks up before he can. “I’m engaged. But why do you need to know?”

“Well,” Rachel starts. “Co-guardianship can become quite complicated when one half of the party is committed to another agenda. It’s usually not a route we tend to encourage, but of course it’s your decision.”

Tessa wishes she was back at home as Rachel continues to list off mind-numbing questions. Somehow, during the course of their strange interrogation, it occurs to Tessa that Mark is probably back at their place wondering where she is. She hadn’t checked her phone since she got the call, but yet some part of her also acknowledges that her immediate reaction wasn’t to call Mark, but to curl up on a bathroom floor in Scott’s arms.

“I just need to your signatures then.” Rachel slides a paper across the table. Scott signs before passing it to her and she stares at the words on the paper, not processing any of them. Scott guides the pen into her, helping her sign her name in looping letters.

Rachel pursed her lips and offered a lopsided smile. “I’ll contact you guys in a few days to figure out further plans.” She placed the paper in her briefcase and Tessa felt a tear slid down her cheek. “I wish you both the best of luck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if anyone caught that nod to Call Me By Your Name ;)


	4. No Mountain Too High

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this one is pretty sad too. I promise the next chapter will be happier!

Tessa had never liked hospitals, even before her surgeries. She remembers how she was kept in all white rooms with monitors that would beep constantly, even through the night, and how the air was dense and reeked of disinfectant. She hated going there each time, feeling like a prisoner being led into her cell. Now was no different. The white noise of beeping monitors and fluttering pages filled the airways that smelt of hand sanitizer, and the nurses still held apathetic smiles like nothing was ever wrong. Only this time she wasn’t the patient.

Through a glass window Tessa watches as Rosie squirms in her bed, kicking her blanket over the sides so a nurse has to come retrieve it ever few minutes. After the attorney meeting Scott had insisted on her leaving to get some sleep, but instead she had just walked out to her car and sat in the driver’s seat staring at the flickering Emergency sign until the sun started to peak over the hilltops. For five hours she sat there with a glassy gaze as sunlight crested across her dash and the morning birds started to chirp. When her limbs were finally too stiff for comfort and her eyes were heavy with defeat she climbed out of her car and walked back to the Pediatric Ward to find Scott asleep on a cot next to Rosie’s bed. He had spent the entire next with her. Tessa had sucked in a breath. With her hair sprawled on the pillow and one arm propped behind his head. He looked so much younger. She had stared with fascination, daring to run her hand down the side of his face where the lines from stress had disappeared.

His eyes had fluttered open, dark chocolate with swirls of caramel. “Tess,” he whispered, sitting up slightly in the bed. He had glanced over to Rosie, making sure she was still asleep. Like him, she was peaceful and calm in sleep, as if nothing bad had ever happened to her.

“I couldn’t leave,” she had whispered. “I just sat in the car, thinking about it over and over again. What if they had taken a different route? Or gone to a different restaurant?”

Scott had reached out a sleepy hand towards her, beckoning him towards her with a flick of his fingers. “Come here, Tess.”

Without much of a second thought she had climbed into the cot beside him, twinging her leg around his and resting her head on his chest. Scott lowered his head until his chin rested on the top of her head and he ran a hand down her arm. He knew there was nothing left to say, and Tessa knew it too, so they just stayed there together in darkness until they both drifted off to sleep against the white noise of the beeping monitors.

* * *

 

When she woke, the other side of the cot empty, she went to fetch some coffee. But now that she was back, a disgusting cup of sludge the hospital called coffee resting in her hand (if only to keep it warm), she couldn’t find the courage to go back in. A nurse moves through the room, checking Rosie’s vitals and taking her heartbeat while Tessa watches from the hall through half open blinds. Tessa blinks back a single tear as Rosie squeals happily in her crib, unaware of the tragedy happening around her. A gentle hand slides down her lower back and she whips around startled. The lack of sleep was putting her on edge.

“Hey,” Scott whispers. He hands her a reusable shopping bag; one of the one she uses for grocery shopping and that she recognizes as having been hung up by her front door last she saw. Upon inspection Tessa finds a fresh pair of jeans folded up and accompanied by her favourite brown sweater.

“You got me some clothes?” For the first time she notices that he too has changed his clothes.

“Made use of my spare key,” Scott chuckles peaking through the blinds to look at Rosie giggling with the nurse. “At least someone is in a good mood this morning.”

Tessa cracks a smile, despite her crestfallen demeanor. “Thank you,” she responds, but Scott is busying watching Rosie. She purses her lips, debating whether or not to ask if Mark was there. He decides for her.

“Mark was there,” Scott says, as if reading her mind. “He said he will come by soon, he just had to stop by the office.”

‘The office.’ Tessa nods and looks back down at the bag of clothes, wondering if Mark would ever think of doing something like this for her. “Thanks,” she mumbles. Scott looks back over his shoulder at her with a tight smile. His hair was in messy, soft curls, and he look just as exhausted as her, if not more. Yet, something still tears at her heartstrings to see him smile at her over his shoulder, like a casual gesture he was so used to doing. She nods to the restroom down the hall. “I’m going to go change.”

After locking the single bathroom stall and packing the clothes, Tessa notices with some alarm that Scott also packed some clean underwear. She stares at the black panties, one of the more conservative pairs she owns (thank god), and the black bralette, with a weird mixture of feelings. Did he go through her drawers looking specifically for a more conservative pair to make her feel less embarrassed (not that he hasn’t seen anything before)? Was it a last minute thought, grabbing whatever was on the top? Did Mark pick out the clothes for him? She shakes her head, deciding now was not the time to focus on something so mundane, but when she unfolds the brown sweater, a t-shirt falls out for the folds of the fabric. Scott’s favourite Maple Leaf shirt, the one she used to steal to wear as a lounge shirt when they were teenagers. With a shallow huff of breath she brings the fabric to her nose and inhales the scent of Scott’s lemon soap and his cologne. A small smile creeps on her lips, and she stays there, with her eyes closed, the blue fabric pressed to her chest like how a child would clutch a teddy bear.

* * *

 

When she emerges, the t-shirt slipped on under her sweater, Mark is standing by the door to Rosie’s room, wearing a dark suit looking as if he’s ready for a business meeting. She clears her throat behind him, aware that her hair is still in a messy bun and that her teeth are un-brushed.

“Hi,” she says slowly as he turns to face her. Tessa looks over his shoulder and see’s Scott at the end of Rosie’s crib, tickling her chubby feet while she lets out loud bursts of giggles.

“You came,” she says, looking back at Mark. It comes out more like a question than she intended.

“I did,” he nods, sounding like a high strung lawyer talking to a guilty client. “Are you doing okay?”

“Yeah.” Tessa wasn’t sure what else there was to say.

“Hey.” He takes her hands in his own, smoothing his thumb over her left hand, making sure to nudge at her engagement ring like a reminder looming over her head. “Talk to me. Are you really okay?”

Tessa nods, looking back up at his face. His eyes are bearing down on her, but she found comfort in their steadiness. His hands, strong in hers, were keeping hers from shaking. “I’ll be okay,” she whispers.

“I know Kaitlyn was your best friend-.”

“I really don’t wanna talk about it right now,” Tess interrupts. Her eyes start stinging again so she looks back down at his black shoes. Mark wraps her hands around his back for her and reaches up to place his hands on the side of her face. She immediately flashes back to the bathroom floor curled up in Scott’s lap, his hands caressing the side of her face.

“That’s okay. When you are ready to talk, I’ll be here.” He kisses her forehead and pulls her into a tight embrace. Tessa closes her eyes and enjoys the comfort of his embrace, but when she opens her eyes, she catches Scott watching them. Scott quickly ducks his head, going back to playing with Rosie, but not before Tessa catches the redness the blooms on his cheeks.

“Thanks,” Tessa says again, smiling up at him when he lets her go. He wraps an arm around her, pulling Tessa close to his side while they stand at the window and watch Rosie squirm in her crib. At some point in the last 20 seconds Scott must have slipped out of the room. The nurse is still there, doing last minute checks while writing in a binder. She passes them a small smile as she leaves, and Mark pulls Tessa into the room for more privacy. Once he closes the door, she notices how silent the room really is.

“I wonder what’s going to happen to her, poor thing.”

Tessa looks up at him. Mark is watching Rosie with a sad smile. She has managed to grasp onto her big toe in her small hand and was now working to get it into her mouth. “What do you mean,” Tessa asks.

“Well who’s going to take care of her now. I guess an aunt or maybe her grandparents.” Tessa gives Mark a bewildered look, an ironic laugh itching up her throat.

“I have custody of her,” she mutters. When Mark doesn’t hear her, she speaks up again. “I have custody of Rosie.” Mark turns again slowly, stone faced and his hands back in his pockets. “Well Scott and I do at least,” she clarifies.

“But Scott’s going to take her, right?” His voice is strained.

“I – I don’t know yet.”

“Tessa,” he chuckles, reaching for her hand. She let him take it, always the left one. “You don’t want a kid.”

She looks at him puzzled, shaking her head. “Where did you get that from?”

“I just figured,” he admits. “You’ve never talked about them before.”

“Well I didn’t think we were there yet.”

“Tessa, we’re engaged!”

“Okay,” she says reasonably. “Let’s talk about it now then.”

Mark takes her other hand and looks at her steadily. This time she doesn’t find any comfort, only hostility. “I don’t want kids.”

Tessa sighs. “That’s not talking about it.”

“Well its not negotiable!”

“Kaitlyn and Andrew asked me to be Rosie’s godparent. They trusted _me_ in case this ever happened,” she told him, aware that she was being slightly hypocritical.

“So you already agreed to it?”

“No. I said I would think about it. But I wanted to talk to you about it first.”

“Well you know how I feel,” Mark says sternly.

“You won’t even discuss it?”

“What is this about, Tessa,” Mark corners her.

“What,” she scoffs, resisting the urge to walk away.

“If both you and Scott have custody, why can’t he take her?”

She sighs deeply. “Because I don’t think its right to put all that on him.  He didn’t ask for this anymore than I did, and we both made a promise. How could I in good conscious do that to Rosie. I Just want you to consider it.”

“You’re not her mother,” Mark tells her firmly. Tessa pulls back her hands looking stunned.

“You won’t consider it,” Tessa asks. Mark runs a hand through his hair, but with so much gel pushing it back it doesn’t move an inch.

“I have to get to work,” he finally admits, heading back for the door. Rosie squeals when she realizes her new friend is about to leave.

“Are you serious? You’re going to walk out now?”

“I’m going to be late for work.”

“I don’t care,” Tessa argues. “Be late.”

Mark whorls on her, looking startlingly calm. “You told me there was nothing between you two.”

Tessa immediately knew what he was talking about, by decided to play the game with him. “What are you talking about?”

“You tell me there’s nothing going on, yet he shows up this morning, at _our_ house, to get you fresh clothes. Did you know he didn’t even knock? He just let himself in.”

“He probably didn’t think you were still there -.”

“And now you’re talking about raising a kid with him! A kid that’s not even yours, god forbid.”

Tessa goes suddenly quiet, resentment bubbling in her. She gives one clean chuckle, looking at Mark with stern eyes in a way that she knows is intimidating. “So that’s what this is really about?”

“Maybe it is,” Mark counters.

“So you want me to choose? You want me to choose between you and Scott?”

His eyes drop like he was finally realizing his guilt, but then he looks back up at her, his stern look having returned. Tessa felt like stumbling back, but she holds her ground, countering his stare. With one last glance at Rosie he reaches for the door.

“I love you, but he doesn’t. Not in the way you want.” She sucks in a breath. “Choose wisely.”

He slips out the door and Rosie starts crying, her wails piercing through the quiet halls. Tessa wipes a silent tear away before turning back to Rosie, the little girl flailing in her crib for attention.

“Hey,” Tessa whispers, looking down at Rosie. She opens her eyes, glassy with tears, but large and pale blue none the less. “Hi Rosie.”

She stops fussing at hearing her name, legs frozen in mid-kick. Tessa reaches down, brushing the stray tears away from Rosie’s plump cheeks. The baby lets a small smile emerge, but when Tessa doesn’t move to pick her up, a cry starts to bubble up again. Tessa hushes Rosie, scooping her up and resting her gently on her hip. Rosie clutching tightly at her pink blanket given to her by the hospital staff.

“It’s okay, Rosie. You’ll be okay.”

Rosie gurgles, putting the corner of her blanket in her mouth.

“We’ll be okay.”

* * *

 

Scott came back, holding two cups of that sluggish coffee. He looks weary eyed and even more tired than before, but he lights up seeing Tessa bounce around the small hospital room with Rosie in her arms.

“I thought I’d give you two so space,” he says while putting down the cups on the small table beside the cot. “A nurse said they’re going to discharge her this afternoon.”

Tessa tries to hide her alarm as she passes an excited Rosie into Scott’s waiting arms.

“Hey, Rosie,” he says, bouncing her on his hip. She giggles, reaching for his hair.

“I thought they wanted to keep her for observation,” Tessa asks, trying to sound causal while choking down a sip of the coffee.

“While she has been doing so well and even slept through the night.” Rosie lets out a little squeal, as if she knows Scott is talking about her. He looks down at her with a huge smile. “Yeah I’m talking about you.”

 He puts his hand up and Rosie, after a small amount of hesitation, knocks her own fist against his.

“See,” he says, looking back at Tessa with a wicked smile. “She’s doing great.”

Tessa nods tightly, fiddling with the ring on her hand that she’s still not quite used to. “We should figure out a plan then.”

Scott looks back at her, his eyes a little heavier, despite the squirming baby in his arms, as if once again grasping the reality of the situation. “Sure,” he mutters, attempting to lay Rosie down in her crib, but she immediately starts crying so he picks her back up and sits down on the cot with her in his lap.

They agree that Rosie will stay at Scott’s place for now. The attorney said they also held ownership of Kaitlyn and Andrew’s house, but Tessa couldn’t think of anything worse than taking over the house that used to belong to her dead best friend. Scott agreed on that matter, one of the one things they did agree on. Tessa would stop by regularly to help out with Rosie until a permanent plan was laid out. Scott had conveniently already talked to Marie France and Patrice about bring Rosie along to skating practices. They were more than happy to help watch her, to a large degree of relief on Tessa’s end.

A mere three hours later Scott had his car pulled around to the front with Rosie’s pink car seat already strapped in and ready to go.

“When did you get this,” Tessa asks, while bouncing a fussy Rosie on her hip. The chubby baby clutches at her blanket given to her by the hospital, perking up a bit at the sight of Scott coming towards her.

“This morning,” he says, taking Rosie from her. “I figured we might need it.”

Of all the times Tessa had imagined having her own baby, taking him or her home for the first time, all swaddled up in her arms, this scenario never crossed her mind. But Tessa knew that was a partial lie.  Long before their first Olympic games, back when she was just a girl with a crush, she’d always picture Scott with her; Scott bouncing a little baby in their living room, with his face bright and a smile bigger than she’d ever seen. That fantasy disappeared a long time ago, but now seeing her before him in that exact way she had imagined so long ago took her breath away. Scott places Rosie gently in her car seat before turning around to glance at Tessa, but instead of a bright smile he just presses his lips together and nodded. Tessa struggles to climb into the car, still breathless and lightheaded.


End file.
